


We're Falling Faster Than We Can Fly

by NotLostAnymore



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Identity Issues, M/M, Memory Loss, Mistaken Identity, Mystery, Resurrection, Slow Burn, Very loose with established canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-08-30 06:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 33,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8521933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotLostAnymore/pseuds/NotLostAnymore
Summary: Tim Drake died. Bruce mourned him, the Titans mourned him, the whole world did. Only now there's a familiar looking young man with no memory of his past lost in the world, desperately trying to find his way back home.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for DC Rebirth! Set after Detective Comics #940. I should also preface this by saying I'm still fairly new to DC and as I'm likely going to fuck up characterization or things that have already happened in canon, take this as a universe in itself where similar events have taken place.
> 
> Fic title taken from "Home Is Such A Lonely Place" by Blink-182.

_Why London?_

It was a question Tim had been asking himself for the past few days since he’d woken up in an abandoned apartment without any memories. He had no phone, no ID, just a few fifty pound notes in his battered wallet. He didn’t even recognize the face looking back at him in the cracked mirror. He was somehow a total stranger to himself and it was terrifying.

It hadn’t take him long to realize that he was a tourist. His American accent stood out starkly against the hum of British voices surrounding him in the city. A brief investigation in the cafés and diners that surrounded the apartment complex hadn’t provided him with any answers either. Nobody had seen his face before, nor seen another American for days or weeks.

Why had he been in London? Was he alone? What had happened to him? Why did he wake up in a building that had been abandoned for years? There were so many questions and precisely no answers.

The worst part was not even knowing his own name. He couldn’t even begin looking himself up online to see if he had any social media profiles because he had no idea where to start. There was no driver’s license to be found in his wallet, nor a passport. Where was all of stuff? Just another question he had no answer for. They were mounting up pretty quickly.

“You look like a Tim,” the booth’s other occupant declared after he’d recounted all of his troubles. After several days of exploring and crashing back in that miserable empty apartment, Tim had found himself resting up in a cheap American-style diner with a milkshake and an oversized basket of fries. Feeling terribly lonely had led to a few tears springing up and that had apparently attracted the attention of one of the diner’s other solo occupants. Thirties, blond and wearing a scruffy suit. _Handsome though_.  

“Tim,” the younger man repeated, considering it for a few moments. It sounded a little strange to his ears at first. He'd considered himself more of a Toby or even a Jason but... well, he could totally be a Tim. Sure, why not. It wasn't as if he had anything to hold him back from changing it whenever he found out who he _really_ was. “Sorry for throwing my emotions up on you,” he added, wiping the remaining wetness from his eyes. God, he probably looked pathetic, didn’t he?

To his credit, the man just smiled sympathetically. “No worries, lad. Better to let it out,” he hummed before pulling a cigarette out of a packet from his pockets and sparking it up. Tim’s jaw went slightly slack. The waiting staff were either experts at ignoring unwanted customers or they were totally blind to the smoke slowly rising from their booth as the man let out his first exhale. Why wasn’t anybody telling him to put it out? “Bet you’ll be wanting to find your way back home, huh?”

“If I knew were home was,” Tim replied grumpily, eyes darting down to the table. He didn’t need any more reminders that finding his way back ‘home’ and recovering his memories was a long shot.

“Judging from that accent, not around here,” the man joked, chuckling to himself. It didn’t exactly fill Tim with any joy. “You got enough for a flight to New York?” Tim shook his head. “Check again.”

Lips curling into a frown, Tim fished his wallet out from his back pocket and glanced inside. By some bewildering impossibility the number of notes tucked in the back had doubled. He definitely had enough for a flight out of there now. “How did you--” he started, glancing up across the booth and stopping dead at what he saw. Somehow the man had vanished without a trace or single noise. The only proof he’d ever been there at all was the lingering scent of tobacco in the air. “--do that?”

_Weirder and weirder…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll update as regularly as I can. I'm planning on writing fairly short chapters for this, like little snapshots into Tim's life so it should be more manageable then five-thousand word chapters etc. but we'll see!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim flies to New York.

“You look familiar,” the girl sat next to him on the plane said. “Like _really_ familiar.” She was quirky to say the least, her posh British accent (he didn’t feel nearly confident enough to guess where in Britain she was actually from) seeming almost cartoonish as she rattled off sentence after sentence. In fact Tim couldn’t remember the last time she’d paused to take a breath but hey, memory clearly wasn’t his strong point anyway.

“Can’t imagine why,” he replied drily, giving her a thin smile before turning back to his book. It hadn’t taken him long to realize just how comfortable reading felt, as if losing himself in the life of fictional characters was therapy for his own disorganized life. He’d bought no less than three books for the long flight from London to New York and he had every intention of ignoring the rest of the passengers in favour of the written word. Unfortunately that seemed rather impossible when he had Queen Elizabeth the Chatty lamenting about her university grades in his ear every few seconds before breaking off to remind him that, yes, he still looked familiar to her.

He wasn’t even sure what he expected to find in New York. Hell, it was probably going to be more difficult than investigating his past in London. He’d left without getting any answers because there was just a small part of him that was hoping the moment he got back on American soil maybe something would jolt his memory and he’d at least know _something_ about his past life. He could trace his way back to London later but right now he was just desperate to find his home. The world felt too big without knowing where he belonged and he hated it, like he was both too crowded and too alone all at once.

Getting onto the flight had been suspiciously easy considering he had no passport or form of identification. The moment he’d mentioned that to the lady at the check-in desk she’d smiled in a way that almost seemed forced and told him to go ahead. The air hostess at the doors of the plane had done exactly the same before she directed him to his seat. There was something very strange going on but Tim was choosing to view it as the universe doing him a favor. Maybe both of those women had seen something in his eyes exposing just how pathetic he felt and decided to take pity for him. Then again that seemed far too lucky for him to possibly be true.

Turning his attention back to his book, Tim reread the same line he had been stuck on for almost twenty minutes. It made perfect sense but his mind seemed insistent on wandering or the girl beside him made her distracting presence known once more. He supposed he couldn’t blame her really, it was a long flight and everybody liked a bit of company. Hell, she was the first real person he’d interacted with since that vanishing blond man at the diner and even if she could be a little on the grating side he was still thankful for a bit of human interaction.

Letting out a small huff of frustration, Tim forced himself onto the next line. Being locked in a small metal box with a few hundred other passengers for eight whole hours suddenly felt incredibly suffocating. It was too late to change his mind now though, he could only hope that New York would provide him with the answers that London couldn’t. It was a long shot but he had to look somewhere, right? New York was a big city, he was sure there was at least one person there who’d seen his face before. He just had to find that person first.

“Hey, you wanna play a game?” his neighbor whined, nudging him in the side with his elbow. Finally accepting defeat, Tim slammed his book closed and forced a smile onto his face. Whatever good luck he’d had getting on this flight without a passport had definitely been counter-acted by his current company.

 _Guess the universe can’t let me have too much luck, huh?_ One of these days Tim was going to have a big talk with whoever was in charge of the world, that was for sure. Until then… sure, he’d play the damn airplane game. What else could he really do?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim thinks he sees a familiar face in New York. He thinks.

There was no immediate moment of realization when Tim stepped off the plane and into the airport. Nothing stood out to him as a memory and he felt like a fool for expecting anything else. Forcing himself not to pay any mind to the crowd gathered at the gate ready to welcome their friends and family to the city, Tim instead kept his head down and walked straight out onto the street.

If London was busy then New York was something else entirely. He was shoulder-checked no less than six times on his short journey to find the closest hostel he could crash in. He wasn’t exactly living the glamorous life but when your funds were severely limited and he had no idea if he had any savings accounts to access, he’d have to make do with the bare minimum.

The first few days in New York City were just as lonely as they had been in London. Sure, he didn’t feel like as much of an outsider as his accent was much closer to everybody else’s but seeing people walk down the street with a purpose made him feel almost jealous. He had no idea what he was living for and while he didn’t want to wallow in self-pity it was growing increasingly hard not to. Every day was the same, walking around the city to see if anything pulled at his brain and opened some imaginary door. Occasionally he’d stop and ask random people if he looked familiar to them but the most he got was strange stares and a few muttered comments about being insane. He supposed he could see where they were coming from with that criticism though.

Then, on the third day, Tim saw something familiar through the bustling crowds. Scruffy blond hair, broad shoulders, smoking a rolled-up cigarette… there was no mistaking it as anybody other than the mystery man who’d joined him in that diner booth. Tim’s feet were moving before he even realized it, increasing his pace to a jog as he shuffled through the crowd in an attempt to catch up to the other. Every few seconds he seemed to disappear behind another wave of people and Tim’s frustration only rose further.

Following the man around the corner, Tim was pleasantly surprised to find that not only was it much quieter here but he had a clear view of the man walking into a small bakery. Most people seemed to walk past without noticing it but not Tim. He marched forward with determination, reaching the glass door and pushing it open --

Only to find that the man was nowhere to be found. The bakery was only occupied by five other people: two elderly ladies smiling fondly at each other over their plate of cakes by the window, a single father and his son dividing chocolate-chip cookies between them and the handsome dark-haired boy behind the counter. Tim glanced around again, eyes falling on the door behind the counter that surely led to the kitchen. Had he gone in there?

“Can I help you?” the young man behind the counter asked, drawing Tim’s attention properly to him. Upon closer inspection it became quite obvious just how good looking he really was. A strong jawline, raven black hair and kind blue eyes that made Tim feel far more relaxed than he had any right to be. The other boy’s frame filled out his work uniform quite nicely, the sleeves slightly stretched as they clung to his biceps. As their eyes met though, Tim felt his heart skip a beat and a slight throbbing in his head. It was as gone as quickly as it had appeared but it took him totally by surprise. _What was that?_

Doing his best not to blush as he realized he was staring, Tim cleared his throat and took a few tentative steps towards the counter. “Did a man just come in here? Blond hair, probably a really tacky trenchcoat and smelling of tobacco?” he asked, eyes glancing to the door and back to the other boy again. A quizzical expression was drawn across his face, his lips pulled down into a slight frown.

“We get about ten dudes a day matching that description,” the boy - _Elliot_ , his name badge reads - replied with a gentle laugh, “None for at least an hour though.”

“But I saw… he really didn’t?” Tim asked again, weaker this time. God, was he going insane? He’d been so sure he’d seen the man come into the bakery! Had he even been out there on the street at all or was he starting to see things just to try and trick himself into believing he was making progress? He didn’t want to consider that it might be the truth. Elliot just shook his head in response and all Tim could do was sigh. “Sorry, it’s been a long… life. I must be tired,” he huffed, smiling apologetically at the other.

“You want a coffee? On the house, my treat,” Elliot offered, grinning at Tim when the shorter boy glanced back up at him.

Their eyes met as he nodded and once again Tim felt the strange feeling in his head as if he was desperately trying to remember something. “Do we… have we met before?” he asked slowly, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Maybe he was being a little too hopeful in guessing that they had known each other in his forgotten life but there was just something about the other boy's face that seemed so familiar. Was it possible that he was beginning to remember something?

Elliot was already busy making a strong coffee for Tim when he glanced over his shoulder and frowned again. “I don’t think so,” he replied casually, “I’ve been told I just have one of those faces, you know?”

The charming smile Elliot shot in his direction sent a shiver down Tim's spine and it was like a light had suddenly been switched on in his mind. “Superman!” he exclaimed, “You look like Superman, that’s it!” Maybe they didn’t know each other at all, Elliot just happened to be a dead ringer for a younger Superman and Tim's silly brain had gotten crossed wires because of it. He had the body for it too, judging from the little Tim could see from the other side of the counter.

“You’re not the first to say that,” Elliot declared, sliding the cup of coffee across the counter to Tim’s waiting hands.

“Sure you’re not related?” Tim asked, his face relaxing into a genuine smile for the first time in days. “Little brother, maybe?”

Elliot’s smile faltered for the briefest of seconds. It was a miracle Tim spotted it at all. “Oh I think I’d remember if I was,” the other boy said. He probably meant nothing by it but Tim stored the information in his mind, as if slowly finding puzzle pieces to put together. “You going to be sticking around?” Elliot asked politely, pulling Tim out of his thoughts. He hesitated for a moment before slowly nodding and feeling a rush of relief at Elliot’s smile widening. “Awesome. Jen takes over my shift in twenty minutes if you want a tour of downtown? I mean, I’m guessing you’re not from around here, are you?”

All Tim could really do was shake his head. He had no idea who Elliot was but there was something in those kind eyes that made him want to trust him. If anything it would be good to make a friend in the area because god knows how long he was going to be stuck in New York. “That sounds… I can wait twenty minutes, sure,” he confirmed, a faint blush creeping up on his cheeks as he fought himself in order to not sound too eager. The offer of friendship was one he’d gladly take. It was about time something started going right for him. Maybe the universe was throwing him a bone after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and his new friend take a walk.

“Have you always lived here?” Tim asked casually, wiping the cookie crumbs from his lower lip as he glanced over at his newfound friend. They had grabbed some snacks from the bakery before Elliot had led him out for his slow walk around the city. New York had always been impressive to his eyes but now he had company it seemed to glow a little brighter.

The other boy hesitated for a fraction of a second before smiling. “Yup, born and raised,” he confirmed before taking another bite from his own cookie. If it hadn’t seemed like such a ridiculous thing to hide the truth about then Tim might have suspected that Elliot was lying. Why would anybody lie about being from New York originally after all? Clearly his brain was just too paranoid for its own good, questioning absolutely everything when it had absolutely no need to. “What about you, where are you from originally?”

Tim let out a small sigh and spared a glance down towards his battered converse trainers. “Ugh, that’s actually a funny story,” he mumbled. “I don’t really know.”

“Okay,” Elliot replied slowly, voice thick with confusion. “Where did you grow up then?”

Rather than reply, Tim met the other’s eye and shrugged a slender shoulder. He couldn’t help but notice now they were walking side-by-side that Elliot was easily a good six inches taller than him and every part of him was just so _big_ that Tim practically felt like a child in comparison. His shoulders were broad and his chest pushed his work shirt to the limits of public decency. If Tim was to make a guess then he had a feeling Elliot had spent some time on a farm while he was growing up. Either that or he was very dedicated to his gym regime. Now that he thought about it, that was probably the more likely option.

“I, uh, don’t actually remember much,” Tim confessed after a moment, feeling his cheeks colour in embarrassment. “Or anything really.” Upon looking back up he was surprised to find Elliot’s eyes were wide and his mouth had fallen open a fraction. “I just woke up a few days ago and _nothing_. Total clean slate.”

“Who are you here with?” Elliot asked in a low voice. Tim had to convince himself that it wasn’t concern he was hearing in the other’s words. That would just be wishful thinking. He could feel Elliot watching him closely and it seemed like his feeble smile was enough of an answer for the other boy. “Tell me you’re not out here on your own. With no _memory_? Oh my god.”

All Tim could do was wince. Yeah, when it was said out loud it sounded terrible. Imagine how it felt to be living that experience. He didn’t exactly feel too thrilled about it either. “Not really much I can do if I don’t know anyone,” he pointed out, deciding to focus on his surroundings rather than looking at the boy immediately to his right. They had found their way in Central Park and while it was still busy, he was glad to be away from the madness of the city streets.

“You know me now,” Elliot declared a few seconds later, reaching over and clapping a strong hand down on Tim’s shoulder - which, _ow_ \- before beaming at him. “Where are you staying?”

“Hostel,” Tim grunted in response before cramming the last of the cookie in his mouth. Elliot just gaped at him - hopefully not because of the cookie thing though.

The next few minutes passed in relative silence. Elliot finished off his own cookie and they dumped the remains in a trashcan before settling down on a nearby bench. Tim couldn’t help but notice that the other boy’s arm had remained around his shoulder the whole time and was even more surprised to discover that he didn’t mind. It almost felt _natural_. “So what do you… what do you do all day?” Elliot asked after what felt like forever. His voice was soft and slow as if he was being careful not to spook a wild animal. Tim wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.

“Check the ‘missing people’ lists a few times a day. Mostly I just walk around to see if anything sparks a memory…” He trailed off, glancing back down at the ground. Truth be told neither avenue had been much help at all. He was no closer to finding out anything about himself than he had been back in London.

“I’m not working tomorrow,” the larger boy declared suddenly, more confidence in his voice. “We’ll do something.” There was a brief pause as his confident smile slipped a fraction. “I mean, if you want?”

Tim’s face lit up in surprise. Or maybe he was just blushing again. That seemed to be a common occurrence these days. “I’d like that, yeah. That would be… I’d like that a lot.” At least it gave him something to look forward to tomorrow for. He'd cling onto that for as long as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I made it glaringly obvious that Elliot is Conner? Because... Elliot is Conner and yes there's a reason he's not called Conner.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot prompts Tim into making a decision.

“Have you thought what you’re gonna do now? I mean, you can’t stay in that hostel forever, right?”

Truth be told, it was all Tim had been able to think about for the past few days. After almost two weeks in New York City his funds were running seriously low and after a few more days he wouldn’t be able to afford to keep staying there, let alone feed himself or get anywhere else. He was stuck and he had nobody to turn to. Well, nobody except the gorgeous young man smiling hopefully across the table from him.

Going out to surrounding cafés with Elliot for the other’s lunch hour from the bakery had become a recurring part of Tim’s day and he found himself eagerly watching the time, checking to see if it was early enough to show up and not look too eager. While he had no doubt that it was because he didn’t know anybody else in the city, Tim had found himself growing increasingly closer to Elliot and he couldn’t deny that some of his thoughts and feelings concerning the other were becoming rather impure at best. He couldn’t help it, not when Elliot was that good looking and friendly all the time! He’d have to be stone-hearted not to feel anything for him.

“Uh, a bit,” he huffed, shrugging his shoulders dismissively. Tim knew that acting impassive about the whole thing wasn’t exactly going to help but he also wasn’t a fan of showing just how panicked he was by the whole scenario in front of the other boy. The last thing he wanted to do was expose himself as a ball of uncontrollable anxiety and freak him out. “I don’t know. Guess I’ll try and go on the road if I can?”

Elliot pulled a face at that last comment. “On the road?” he asked slowly, as if the words weren’t quite settling in his mind. Tim shrugged again. He didn’t exactly have much of a plan but clearly New York wasn’t doing him many favours. “You could, uh, you could always stay with me?”

Tim balked at the idea. “I couldn’t do that to you,” he said quickly, trying to ignore his increased heartrate at the idea. “I wouldn’t want to impose.” It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the offer of staying in an actual home rather than the rather clinical and depressing hostel he was currently shacked up in, he just didn’t much like the idea of being indebted to somebody else - especially one he barely knew.

“You wouldn’t be imposing!” Elliot insisted, an earnest smile on his face as he leaned in a little across the table. Tim was ashamed to find that he instinctively did the same. “Besides, my flatmate moved out a few weeks back so there’s a spare bed and everything,” he added, moving back and taking a sip from his coffee cup.

“I wouldn’t be able to pay rent,” Tim pointed out, squirming in his seat. He wanted to stay with Elliot, of course he did, there were just so many things in the way --

“Get a job,” Elliot replied casually, as if that was the easiest thing in the world. Tim couldn’t remember if he’d ever had a job but even he knew that the job market wasn’t exactly easy to navigate. “And before you say _it’s not that simple_ which I know you’re thinking, I have a friend that owes me a favour. You don’t mind being a waiter, do you?”

Tim could only stare across the table at the other boy. Was this really happening? He had to have done something pretty great in a past life to deserve so much kindness from the other, that was for sure. “Elliot--” he started, only to break off when the other raised a hand in protest.

“I won’t hear it. You’re grabbing your stuff from the hostel tonight and staying with me from now on,” the other boy declared. His confident smile was almost daring Tim to challenge that decision but he simply didn’t have the heart to. He was sure that any bed Elliot offered him was more comfortable than anything at the hostel and his back was seriously beginning to cramp from the wiry mattresses he was sleeping on.

Rather than argue back any longer, Tim allowed himself to smile and let out the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. It felt like a great weight had been lifted off his chest and maybe it wouldn’t fix everything but it felt like he was making some sort of progress, even if it wasn’t in the direction he’d been expecting. With no leads to go on he couldn’t make much progress in discovering who he really was so maybe putting down some roots in the city wouldn’t be too bad. He couldn’t live out of a ratty backpack and crowded hostel rooms forever. He already have a feeling that this would do him a world of good, even if it didn't last for long. It didn’t matter what Elliot said, he’d still feel like he was imposing if he stayed there for too long but for now…

“Why are you being so nice to me?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking. Tim had discovered rather quickly that he was simply far too curious for his own good. It would probably end up getting him into trouble eventually - if it hadn't already.

Elliot’s lips pulled into a small, sad smile. “Because I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now. I just want to help,” he said slowly, his hand reaching across the table to squeeze Tim’s hands comfortingly for a few seconds.

Trying to hide the blush that crept onto his cheeks as a result of the contact, Tim glanced down at the table and fought his urge to grin. Consequently, he missed the guilty expression that skirted across Elliot’s face for a few fleeting seconds. By the time Tim found the courage to look back up he was met only by the same charming smile he had come to know so well.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim moves in with Elliot.

Elliot’s apartment was nice. It wasn’t overly large, just big enough to still be considered cozy while having enough space for two people to co-exist. Elliot’s bedroom was a little bigger than the one he had moved into but Tim didn’t exactly mind, he was just happy to have a comfortable bed back in his life - and a double-sized one at that! He hadn’t exactly had much stuff to bring with him from the hostel to the apartment, just a few spare shirts and several pairs of underwear but looking around the empty bedroom he felt for the first time like he could genuinely make the place his. This certainly felt like much more than he deserved but it was too late to argue with it now.

That first night in the apartment had been understandably strange. The conversation was a little stilted as Tim adjusted to the fact that somebody actively wanted to be in his company. Elliot had cooked a lasagne and even though he had been apologetic about his cooking, Tim thought it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. He’d been living off junk food for the last few weeks after all and a home-cooked meal felt like a blessing.

“I’ve text my buddy about the job,” Elliot said through a mouthful of pizza. Tim did his best not to look too disgusted. This was Elliot’s home after all and if he wanted to eat with a _severe_ lack of manners than that was up to him. _Let it go, Tim. Let it go_. “You cool to head over there tomorrow at six? I finish work at four so I can walk you down.”

As if Elliot hadn’t done enough by putting a roof over Tim’s head he was calling in a favour to get him a job too. Seriously, what the hell had Tim done in a past life to deserve a friend like Elliot? His heart couldn’t help but flutter as their eyes met and he forced a weak smile onto his face. “Yeah, that sounds good. You sure they won’t mind that I have no work experience?” he asked, before frowning. “Or, you know, any I remember.”

Elliot’s returning smile was as kind as ever. “It’s fine. _You’ll_ be fine,” he assured him, moments before shovelling half a slice of pizza straight into his mouth. Tim let out a sigh of relief that he was no longer trapped staring in adoration at the other’s beautiful face. He was being straight up embarrassing now.

Tim’s sleep at the hostel had been rather disturbed but he’d always blamed that on the springy mattress he’d been sleeping of. Now that he had a bed that actually felt welcoming he slept solidly for a good eight hours and felt more rested in the morning than he could ever remember. Elliot was out to start his shift at work but he’d left a key out on the kitchen counter along with a grocery list and a couple twenty . ‘ _Thought you might want to do something with your day!’_ the nearby note read. Tim couldn’t help but read it in Elliot’s voice and fought back the fond smile that threatened to appear. At least nobody was around to see it. The last thing he wanted to do was complicate his friendship with Elliot when so much was riding on them being just friends.

By the time four o’clock rolled around Tim felt strangely achieved for once. He’d bought the groceries, dusted and cleaned both pretty much the entire flat and had even gone for a short jog a few blocks down and back. By the time Elliot arrived back at the apartment the shorter of the two could hardly hide his smile.

“What’s got you in a good mood?” Elliot asked, a smile of his own growing as he handed over a small bag of pastries he’d brought home from the bakery. Tim accepted them eagerly.

“Just… happy,” he replied, shrugging it off as casually as he could manage. He almost wanted to make a big deal out of it and thank Elliot all over again but something told him he’d just get the same response he always did. Elliot was far too good of a person to be real. The comparisons to Superman, both physically and emotionally, were striking. It was like having his own personal superhero and Tim loved it, even if he felt a little selfish for eating up so much of the other’s time. He couldn’t remember Elliot really talking much about his other friends. That was definitely something he’d have to address in the near future. “What’s in the other bag?” he asked, glancing down at the black bag in his friend’s other hand.

“Glad you asked!” Elliot declared happily, walking over to the coffee table in the lounge and placing it down. “It’s a little something for you to wear at work tonight.”

Tim’s eyebrows raised in surprise. He set his bag of pastries down and moved to see exactly what was in the mystery bag. One by one he slowly pulled out a skinny-fit white formal shirt, a grey pinstripe waistcoat, black trousers and a skinny black tie. “What kind of place are you sending me to?” he gasped, staring at the uniform and trying not to let the nerves creep in.

“It’s a jazz bar downtown. _The Canary_. Mostly classy with a little bit of trash thrown in,” Elliot explained, a cheeky smirk crossing his face. Tim did his best not to think about Elliot all dressed up in a suit that would no doubt hug his muscles perfectly. It was a difficult battle. “The staff are nice and the crowd tips well. They’ll eat up a cute guy like you.”

And just like that, Tim’s face turned a deep shade of red. His mouth dropped open but he felt totally incapable of vocalizing anything, especially not the panicked thoughts rushing through his head. Elliot didn’t really think he was cute, did he? _It’s just an expression. He’s straight. He’s totally straight!_ Sensible thoughts weren’t exactly coming easily to him though and all he could do was cough into his hand. “Shut up,” he mumbled, acutely aware of the fact he was grinning even though he couldn’t bring himself to meet the other’s eyes.

Grinning fiendishly, Elliot reached over to ruffle his hair and Tim pulled back sharply. “Go on, get showered and dressed. I’ll cook something up for you to eat before work,” the taller boy continued, jumping up from his place on the sofa. “You’re a big boy now, out in the working world!” he called over his shoulder as he sauntered towards the kitchen, showing off his perfect ass in those too-tight jeans. _Oh god, I’m so screwed_.

“Don’t patronize me!” Tim called back as he cradled his new uniform into his hands and shuffled back towards his room. His internal thoughts weren’t nearly as calm as his outward appearance but he was choosing to take that as a minor victory. Now he just had to ready himself for an even tougher battle than ignoring how unfairly gorgeous his flatmate was…


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim starts working at the Canary Jazz Club.

“The club operates out of New York, Star City and London. I hear there’s talk of expanding to Metropolis but the big boss isn’t around much. Dix says she’s always off traveling the world or something,” Elliot explained on their short walk towards the destination in question. Tim’s stomach was full from yet another delicious home-cooked meal courtesy of his new best friend but it wasn’t enough to combat the overwhelming nerves that were threatening to swallow him up and totally steal his voice. “Just smile a lot and stick out your ass a bit more for the cougars. They’ll love it.” Tim wasn’t sure just how useful that advice really was so all he managed to do was let out a small huff resembling a laugh before he fell silent again. Apparently he didn’t deal with nerves all too well.

The Canary Jazz Club was like something out of an old gangster movie. Low-key mood lighting, gentle jazz music playing in the background and the staff all dressed up like they were preparing to walk the runway. Tim felt severely out of place as he followed Elliot into the establishment and was promptly introduced to Dixon, the favour-owing friend.

“Nice to meet you, buddy. Elliot doesn’t shut up about you,” Dixon declared teasingly, holding his hand out. Tim glanced at his flatmate and could have sworn that he’d spied a blush on the other’s cheeks before he turned his back on the both of them in order to look around.

Accepting the offer of a handshake, Tim forced his lips into a polite smile. “Nice to meet you too,” he replied, glancing over Dixon’s shoulder to the rest of the club. The rest of the staff were mainly hanging around the bar, a few of them glancing their way. He tried not to let himself feel too intimidated.

“I’ll pick you up at ten, yeah?” Elliot questioned, apparently returning to the conversation now his blush had died down. Even though there was a feeling of dread twisting in his stomach he simply nodded and gave the other as confident a smile he could muster. His heart fluttered at the proud smile he received in return and he glanced back towards Dixon before he could be caught checking out his flatmate’s ass. That wouldn’t exactly be the best first impression after all.

“El said you haven’t worked in a bar - _club_ , whatever you want to call this place - before?” Tim wasn’t sure it was actually supposed to be a question but he nodded to confirm that it was correct anyway. “That’s cool, dude. You’ll pick it up in no time. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the others.” He nodded his head towards the small group of people hanging around the bar. Tim wasn’t sure that drinking cocktails was exactly a professional start to the work night but apparently they had no such qualms.

One by one Tim was introduced to the bartenders and his fellow wait-staff and even two of the bouncers. Although one or two of them had somewhat predatory grins on their faces as they were introduced, they seemed like good people and Tim told himself to stop acting so guarded. Being dropped off with a group of strangers wasn’t exactly his idea of a relaxing experience but they’d think he was strange if he remained so tense for the rest of the night.

“You must be our newbie,” a voice declared suddenly, startling Tim. A few snickers rippled around the group as a faint pink blush coloured his cheeks and he turned on the spot to find the source of the voice. Walking towards him was a woman only a few inches taller than him with dirty blonde hair and a strong jawline. There was a certain swagger to her walk that exuded confidence and it took all of two seconds for Tim to realize that she was likely the boss. “You’re even cuter than biceps said.”

“Biceps?” Tim repeated, quirking an eyebrow. _Elliot_ , his brain followed, quickly followed by an _Oh!_ He supposed he could see why his flatmate had earned that nickname; he did have _very_ nice arms. “Uh yeah, I’m Tim,” he added, shaking the frazzled expression off his face and holding out his hand. He wanted to make a good first impression and impressing the boss with good manners seemed like a safe bet.

“Sara Lance,” the woman introduced herself in response, clasping his hand in a grip that seemed far too strong to belong to somebody so dainty. Tim did his best not to wince in the few seconds before she let his hand drop. “I run this ship while my sister’s out of town.” Tim thought back to what Elliot had told him earlier on and wondered just how often Sara was left in charge. The authority rolled off of her in waves and he wouldn’t have been surprised to discover that her sister hadn’t stopped by in months, if not years.

Snapping himself out of his thoughts, Tim let out a small breath and relaxed his shoulders. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Lance,” he replied politely, only to wince as she snorted in response. The giggling crowd behind him didn’t help much either.

“Sara’s fine, kid,” she told him, clapping him on the shoulder. “No need to be nervous. You drink?” Tim hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. Her smirk was almost wolfish in design. “That’ll change. We’ll break you in no time.” There was no real menace in her tone but Tim couldn’t stop himself from raising his eyebrows in surprise. Just what kind of establishment was this?

“Dix is going to be showing you the ropes tonight,” she continued, nodding back towards the handsome dark-skinned man he’d met first. “We’ve got an hour until doors so he’ll get you trained up ‘til then. After that you’re thrown to the sharks, Timmy-boy.” Tim wasn’t sure if it was the nickname or the thought of being thrown in at the deep end that made him wince. Sara chuckled either way. “You’ll be fine, kiddo. That handsome face? You’ll be raking us in money on ‘no pants’ nights.” And then, with a soft pat on the cheek, Sara turned and disappeared back up the flight of stairs towards her office.

Face pale, Tim glanced back towards Dixon. “She’s kidding about the no pants thing, right?” Dixon only smirked back at him.

Despite all of his worries, the next hour flew by in what felt like ten minutes. Tim eagerly watched and listened as Dixon explained the process of waiting on their patrons - how to take their order, where to get the food from, how to carry multiple trays at once. The other man was pleasantly surprised when Tim managed to hold several trays at once without any wavering. “I smashed four plates on my first day,” he explained, lips curving into a wry smile. “You must just be a natural, kiddo.”

“Please stop calling me that,” Tim sighed even though he could feel himself grinning.

As the doors opened the bouncers slowly allowed people in, Tim felt the nerves swell up inside of him again. He barely had time to mull over his thoughts too much though before he was being nudged in the direction of an elderly couple sat in a booth. Tim replayed everything Dixon had showed him in his mind as he approached and the words seemed to flow from his mouth without any hesitation. He felt too aware of how wide his smile was and how forced his voice sounded but the couple were nice enough not to say anything as he scribbled down their order onto the pad and hurried off to get their drinks from the bar.

Much like the first hour, the three hours that followed passed by in the blink of an eye. Tim found himself speeding from table to table, not slipping up on a single order and keeping every meal delivered firmly on the trays balanced on his arms. Shortly before it was time for his first shift to end he spared a glance up towards the manager’s office and was surprised to find Sara watching him intently, her lips drawn into a small smile. He did his best not to put too much thought into it.

Elliot arrived a few minutes after ten and head straight for the bar as Tim finished his last order for the night. By the time he’d delivered the dirty dishes back to the kitchen and made his way over, his flatmate was deep in discussion with his new boss. He hung back a few paces, not wanting to intrude, when Sara caught his eye and stood up.

“Good work today, kiddo. Welcome to the team,” she said proudly, clapping him on the shoulder again. Tim made a mental note that Sara was a very physical person, even with near-strangers. “We’ll get you on a six-twelve tomorrow night. I’ll make sure your two-week rota’s up too.” She turned her attention from him to Elliot and slapped him on the back for good measure too. “Good find, biceps. Let me know if you take in any more strays, huh?”

They exchanged quick goodbyes and Tim couldn’t even hide the grin from his face as he followed Elliot out of the club and down the steps past the bouncers. “How was it?” the other boy asked, glancing across at him as they began their walk home.

“Dude, I owe you _so many_ favours,” was all Tim could really muster in response. Elliot laughed loud and heartily and Tim felt his heart do a somersault in his chest as the other’s strong arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“My pleasure, kiddo,” Elliot sighed, his lips pulled into a wide grin. The pet name only made the shorter boy flinch. If that caught on because of Sara then he’d probably develop a complex or something.

“I take it back,” Tim growled, “You’re the worst.”

They both knew he didn’t mean it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the chapter where I decided that I'm not even going to try and stick to Rebirth's continuity. I got inspired and it took me places that don't necessarily fit with canon so yeah, consider this fic as taking place in a self-contained universe from now on. There will be some similarities to how DC Rebirth are using the characters but I'm also drawing some inspiration from other sources such as, yes, the Arrow and pre-52 universes. There are more unexpected developments on the way!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot calls in another favor for Tim.

Tim was honestly surprised just how easily he fell into the pattern of waking up late, taking a jog around the city, trying his hand at preparing dinner and then spending his nights working at the club. Just a week in and he already felt confident in the job, something he hadn’t felt much towards anything lately. Maybe he wasn’t any closer to revealing any lost memories or finding the family he hoped were somewhere out there looking for him but he barely had time to even think about that with the hustle and bustle of working at _The Canary_. He was glad for it too. He was already aware of the fact he probably spent way too much time moping about his forgotten identity and the last thing he wanted was for Elliot or anybody else for that matter to decide that he was a miserable waste of time.

Every now and then Tim would catch Sara watching him move around the club and while there was a paranoid voice in the back of his head questioning it, he made sure it didn’t affect his work in any manner. Okay, maybe he stood up a little straighter and smiled a little brighter but that was it. He just wanted to impress his boss because unlike the horror stories Elliot had passed along from his other friends, Tim had the pleasant surprise of having a boss who managed to be friendly and approachable. Sure, sometimes her ways - doing shots at the bar in the middle of her work shift - were a little unpractical at times but at least she wasn’t constantly breathing down his neck and making him feel inferior.

After the first few nights Tim had agreed with Elliot that his flatmate really didn’t have to stay up late just to walk him home, especially when he had to be up early to get to the bakery anyway. Dixon had walked with him in the days following that until Tim repeated the conversation and he was finally granted permission to walk himself home at night. The city managed to still be busy at midnight and it was no more than a twenty minute walk so it was really no trouble. Besides, Tim found himself feeling so much more alive at night than he did in the day and he couldn’t help his mind wandering during those short walks.

Even though he knew it wasn’t a healthy topic to fuss over for too long, he couldn’t help but try to think about what kind of person he might have been before all of this. Had he been a big partier with a taste for whatever booze he could get his hands on? Social and fearless in the same way so many of his new colleagues were? Or had he been just the same as he was now - a little shy and a little quiet but with enough sarcastic remarks burning up in his mind to make anybody fume in frustration. The more comfortable he felt around Elliot and Dixon, the more those comments started to come out. He could still remember the way Elliot’s mouth had fallen open after the first cutting jab aimed at him, although he was sure that was more because his flatmate had looked so damn _kissable_ with surprise written all over his face.

Then again, when didn’t Elliot look kissable?

“He likes you a lot, you know,” Dixon declared one evening from the other side of the bar. Tim set down his empty tray and raised his eyebrows. He refused to let his eager brain interpret that in other way than what it was at face value.

“He’s a good friend,” he confirmed, his lips pulling up into a tight smile. He wondered whether Dixon could tell that he wanted them to be much more than just good friends but he wasn’t nearly willing enough to test his luck. Instead of replying, Dixon just grinned back at him and Tim did his best not to think about the mischievous gleam in the other man’s eye. He was clearly just playing around because if Tim and Elliot were anything more than friends then surely he would have realized. He wasn’t that dense.

The next morning Tim awoke to a small package being thrown onto his chest. He stared up at it with bleary eyes before glancing up at Elliot who was stood at the end of his bed with a wide grin on his face. “I got you a present,” he declared proudly.

“And it couldn’t have waited?” Tim groaned in response, reluctantly pushing himself up into a seated position. He’d been nice and wrapped up in the sheets and having his sleep disturbed definitely wasn’t his definition of a fun morning, even if it was by Elliot of all people. He could forgive the other for many things because he had an amazing body and those adorable puppy-dog eyes but this was just madness.

Elliot rolled his eyes and went to grab the package. “I can’t take it back--” he started, only for Tim to swipe his hand away before he could get a hold of it. The package was thin and didn’t make much of a noise when it was rattled. “Just open it already,” Elliot laughed, earning a scowl in return. Despite glaring at his friend, Tim quickly ripped the top of the package off and emptied it onto his sheets.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t a passport and a number of other plastic cards, one of which was a driver’s license with his face clearly printed on the front. Tim had a brief flashback to his first few days in New York when he’d taken his photo in a booth in order to apply for a new passport only to realize there would be no legal documents under the name he had chosen for himself. _Timothy Potter_. Unoriginal but it would do until he found out his real name, at least. He’d completely forgotten about the photos, having thrown them in a draw when he’d first moved in. Somehow Elliot must have found them and… done something?

“What are these?” he asked, staring up at the other boy with wide eyes. He had a strong feeling that whatever Elliot had done to get him these, it hadn’t been necessarily legal.

“I called in another favour,” Elliot replied as if it was the most casual thing in the world. _Okay, definitely not legal_. Tim really didn’t want to think about the fact that this was at least two favours the other had called in for him and he was going to end up owing Elliot the world if this carried on any further.

Tim stared down at the passport in shock. “Thank you, dude. Seriously. This is way more than I deserve.”

Elliot’s face spread into that familiar bright smile that always made Tim’s heart beat a little faster. “Don’t sweat it, dude. My treat,” the other shrugged it off, as if he’d just bought home a cheap t-shirt for Tim rather than the opportunity to actually go places and have a life without the involvement of the mystery blond man from London. He couldn’t imagine these kind of things had been easy or cheap to get hold of which made an uneasy feeling settle in his gut.

Seriously, what the hell had he done to deserve this level of kindness? He was almost starting to get suspicious. There was no way Elliot could really be that kind and perfect without some kind of hidden motivation. Perfect people didn’t exist, everybody that. There were always a few skeletons in the closet, especially with those who appeared so composed and joyful at first. Maybe there was some cause for concern after all…


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim makes a bet with one of his new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to preface this by saying I was a little tipsy when I wrote two-thirds of this chapter so please be patient with any SPAG errors you find, I'll fix them up when I'm of a more sober mind!

Tim had called New York City his home for a month now. It was a strange milestone, one that he wasn’t sure he should really be celebrating but at the same time it felt like a victory. Perhaps he was no closer to finding out what had happened to him but he had a roof over his head, a job to bring in money and a best friend he could rely on. Maybe he hadn’t landed on his feet but he’d pushed himself up, a fighter not quite ready to stay down on the mat.

The Canary Jazz Club had become something of a second home to him. Five days a week he worked anywhere between six and ten hours, depending on just how busy it was. Hanging out with Dixon and the others felt like second nature to him and even conversations with Sara didn’t seem quite so daunting anymore either. If anything Tim almost looked forward to them, anticipating the next way Sara would surprise him. Just a few days earlier they’d had a rare rough customer who’d had a little too much to drink and almost started a fight with another man at the bar. Before Tim could even make a move Sara was there, grabbing the man by the back of the jacket and pulling him towards the door. She didn’t let go even when the bouncers grabbed the man by the arms, determined to see the job through despite the rest of the bar’s patrons and staff watching her in surprise. After that Tim was more than happy to follow her lead in anything she could possibly ask of him.

Things with Elliot had remained much the same as they had been since the start: Tim silently pining while still being in denial that he felt anything more than appreciation and loyal friendship for the other boy. Plenty of guys admired how handsome their buddies were, didn’t they? There was nothing _gay_ about it - not that Tim had a problem with it. He’d already worked out that while he could appreciate how pretty some girls were and how ladies who took charge like Sara did definitely excited him, there was something about the male form that just got him going so much more. He had Elliot’s biceps and broad shoulders to blame for that, he was sure.

Dixon’s words hadn’t quite stopped replaying themselves in Tim’s mind for the past week. _“He likes you a lot, you know.”_ It probably meant nothing. Elliot was a good guy, he had plenty of friends and he probably liked them a lot too. Tim’s brain just didn’t know when to stop reading into things and it was going to end up getting him into trouble one day soon. He just hoped that trouble didn’t involve Elliot because he couldn’t bear the thought of ruining whatever it was they shared. Even though he didn’t exactly have much to base it on, a part of Tim knew that it was the strongest bond he’d ever shared with anybody. Everything just seemed to fit so perfectly - aside from those pesky romantic feelings he was still trying to push down, of course.

“I’m off to work, don’t wait up!” Tim called over his shoulder as he hurried towards the door of their apartment, his work uniform still screwed up in his bag. He was definitely going to be getting some odd looks throughout his shift, that was for sure.

“I will!” Elliot called back in response, no doubt just to spite him. Hopefully he wasn’t being serious. He had a six o’clock start at the bakery the next morning and Tim didn’t want to be responsible for the other boy being tired and sending him grumpy text messages all day. Then again, it wasn’t as if he didn’t grin like an idiot whenever his phone flashed with a new message from the other. He was sappy like that.

There were moments while working at _The Canary_ where Tim couldn’t help but wonder if this was all his life was going to come to. Was he ever destined to be more than a well-dressed (on other days, he was sort of an unorganized mess tonight) waiter or was this his lot in life now? He supposed that he didn’t really have it all that bad, even if the fact he couldn’t remember much beyond a month ago still bugged him a little too much to let go. Maybe one day he’d accept that he was never going to find out exactly what had happened to him or who he was but for now he held onto hope. It still felt a little too early to give up, even if google searches and walks around the city had led to nothing at all.

Settling down in the staff room for his break, Tim wasn’t all that surprised when Dixon dropped down beside him. Although they certainly weren’t as close as Tim was with Elliot, he enjoyed the other man’s company a lot and always left with a grin on his face because of whatever sly comment the other had made. Today though, he apparently had something else on his mind. “I’ve got a deal for you,” he declared, attracting Tim’s attention. All he could do was frown before the other continued, “If I get more tips than you tonight, you have to kiss El.”

Tim spat out the orange juice he’d just sipped, staring up at the other man with wide eyes and a hanging mouth. “Are you crazy?” he gasped, not really believing what he was hearing. “I’m not going to kiss him!”

“Why not? You like him, he likes you… kissing seems like the natural next step,” Dixon replied as if it was the easiest thing to understand in the whole wide world which _no_ , it really wasn’t. It didn’t matter just how badly Tim wanted to kiss Elliot - because yeah, he wanted to so badly that it hurt - it wasn’t going to happen because it was a monumentally bad idea.

At least, it wasn’t going to happen until Dixon gave him the cockiest smirk Tim had ever seen on another person and asked in a smug tone, “Too chicken?”

“I’m going to kick your ass,” Tim growled out in response.

Two hours later though it became quite clear that no, Tim really wasn’t going to kick Dixon’s ass. He’d smiled as brightly as he could, been as polite as possible and even shook his ass a little as he walked away and yet he still hadn’t been able to match the other man’s tip total. He was actually starting to wonder if Dixon was using some kind of black magic to get a one-up on him.

“A promise’s a promise, dude,” the other man declared as he finished counting up his tips in front of Tim, just to gloat. There was a confusing cocktail of anger, jealousy and nervousness boiling under the surface and Tim had precisely no idea how to deal with it so he just pulled his lips into a thin line, barely smiling and made a quick escape.

The walk back to the apartment passed by in what felt more like seconds than minutes. He was back at the apartment door all too soon and all he could really hope was that Elliot hadn’t been foolish enough to actually stay up like he promised. Tim was a man of his word and he’d fulfil his part of the bet with Dixon but he just needed a little _time_. It wasn’t as if Dixon had specified when he had to kiss Elliot, was it?

Unfortunately Elliot really had stuck to his word and there he was in the middle of the lounge, totally shirtless and doing push-ups with his back to the door. Tim’s jaw fell open and he was all too aware of the fact he let out a noise that couldn’t exactly be identified as human. It was a sort of strangled squeak, like something you might hear from a puppy whose tail had been momentarily stepped upon. The noise, of course, distracted his shirtless and sweaty roommate who looked up at him with a big smile on his face.

Elliot had barely gotten to his feet before Tim decided _to hell with it_ and marched forward to press their lips together. He desperately hoped and wished that he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life because he didn’t want to even think about the fallout this could possibly have.

Thankfully only a few seconds later, Elliot was kissing him back, his strong hands moving down to Tim’s waist in order to hold him close. Tim all but melted against the other’s firm body, trying to memorize the very taste of him and the feeling of the other boy’s lips against his own. He didn’t want to stop because even in his dreams it had never felt this good but he had to _breathe_ and goddamn, was this really happening? Had he been knocked out on the walk home or something? Was he going to wake up naked in an alley somewhere?

Even as Tim reluctantly pulled away, he couldn’t quite bring himself to step further back and let his head drop to rest softly on the other’s shoulder. He was panting for breath as his fingers moved up the other’s back, exploring the smoothness of his skin and the feeling of his strong back muscles moving underneath.

“Tim,” Elliot groaned in the most unholy of voices. All Tim could do was groan in response. His brain wasn’t working well enough to even begin to form words. Instead he just began peppering soft kisses along the other’s collarbone. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” This couldn’t be real. There was no way Elliot actually wanted him after everything he’d already done for him. Didn’t he consider Tim a freeloader or a waste of time? It seemed only natural. Tim’s hands moved to the other’s torso, feeling up his softly defined abs and moving up to his pecs. God, was there any part of Elliot’s body that wasn’t toned to perfection? It was unfair. “Before we do this though, I gotta tell you something.”

No, this wasn’t allowed. Tim was finally getting what he wanted and he wasn’t prepared to accept distractions. He quickly moved to capture the other’s lips in another kiss, hungrier than the last. His hands tangled in Elliot’s black hair, grabbing onto it for dear life. “No talking,” he whined between needy kisses. He’d needed this more than he’d even realized which said a lot.

Elliot wasn’t taking no for an answer, much to Tim’s dismay. The other’s strong hands moved to his chest, gently pushing him back until he was forced to break contact. Tim stared up at the other, the hurt obvious in his eyes. _This is it, he’s going to tell me he doesn’t want this_. His mind couldn’t help but jump to the worst case scenario, he’d been anticipating it from day one. He didn’t deserve a perfect guy like Elliot. Hell, nobody in the world probably did.

“Tim, this is serious.” _This is a mistake. I don’t want you. Get out of my apartment._ “Please, just… I need to tell you something.”

Tim swallowed hard, his eyes not making it any further than Elliot’s throat. He wasn’t sure he could look the other in the eye when he was finally rejected. “What?” he croaked, already wishing he could rewind time to just thirty seconds ago.

For a few moments the room was uncomfortable silent. Tim watched as Elliot swallowed and then braced himself for the words. “Tim, I-- I’m sorry but I’ve been lying to you. I’m not who you think I am.”

Tim forced himself to meet the other’s eyes. Elliot looked so open and vulnerable that his first instinct was to wrap him into a hug but he held back, too confused to move. What the hell did that mean?

“I’m haven’t lived in New York my whole life, I’m not some perfect guy with his life together, I… I’m not even sure my name’s really Elliot,” the other continued, every admission feeling like a slap in the face.

“What the hell are you telling me?” Tim asked, his voice barely above a growl. This couldn’t be happening, it just couldn’t. Who the hell had he been living with this whole time?

“I don’t-- I don’t have any memories of my past either. I woke up one day and-- and it was all gone.” There were tears springing to Elliot’s eyes but Tim couldn’t stop to think about that, his brain was too busy trying to catch up. _He lied, he lied, he LIED_. How was this even possible? How could he be so naïve to think that a perfect guy like Elliot really existed when he’d been playing him all along? “I’m saying I’m like you, Tim. I don’t remember anything either. You’re not alone.”

It didn’t matter how honest Elliot sounded, nor how pleading the look in his eyes was because Tim knew that it simply wasn’t true. If anything, the admission made Tim feel more alone than ever.

 _He lied_.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim has a few uncomfortable conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay in chapters! After posting nine chapters in nine days I needed a little break and had a busy weekend planned. I'm aiming to get three more chapters out this week before another weekend-long break and then maybe I'll get into a more regular pattern. Anyway, enjoy some angst!

A lifetime seemed to pass in just a few seconds. There was so much Tim wanted to say, to _scream_ even, but he just couldn’t find the strength in himself to vocalize a single thought. Elliot remained just as silent, his face covered in a cloud of guilt and his mouth hanging open as if he was on the verge of talking, perhaps even begging. There was an uncomfortable tension in the room that seemed to smother the both of them until they could hardly breathe, a long way from the atmosphere in the room just a few minutes before. Tim currently couldn’t think of anything worse than Elliot attempting to kiss him because suddenly he felt like he had no idea who the man he was staring at even was.

There was a rational voice in the back of his mind that told him to hear Elliot out and sympathize with him but the voice was so quiet that it was easy not to listen to it. Instead Tim gave into the screaming furious anger that the other had been keeping secrets - and one so large too - from him. Hadn’t Elliot stopped to think that maybe being honest with Tim would make him feel better about his own amnesia? Maybe _then_ he wouldn’t have felt so alone but now… now the news just made him feel sick and more isolated than he even had back in London.

“Tim, say something. Please,” Elliot croaked desperately, his eyes large and wet. That quiet voice in the back of Tim’s head felt bad for being the cause of the other boy’s misery, especially after all the good Elliot had done for him, but once again he chose to ignore that voice. He wasn’t going to let his flatmate’s pretty face cloud his judgment because he had every right to be angry and he wasn’t going to hold back from that.

“Why would you wait this long to tell me?” Tim asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “You knew how _alone_ I felt, how badly it was eating me up. Did you not stop to think that hey, maybe knowing you went through the same thing might help me?” He was doing his best to control his emotions but it was surprisingly difficult and he could feel the sting of tears in his eyes that only served to make him angrier. The last thing he wanted was for Elliot to think he was _weak_ and unable to hold it together.

For the first time an almost ugly, _angry_ expression crossed the other boy’s face. “Well maybe this isn’t all about you,” he spat before recoiling, as if only just realizing his own words. “I didn’t hide it from you to be an ass…” he attempted to explain in a much softer tone, only for Tim to interrupt by laughing. It was hollow and mirthless and Elliot was clearly irritated by it. “Look, I had my reasons!” he continued, voice a little firmer this time.

“I’m all ears,” Tim growled in response, the anger thick in his words.

Elliot bristled, standing up a little straighter and his jaw pushing out. “I built a life for myself, okay? From scratch. I didn’t want to be the scared boy with no memories, so I wasn’t. I put all that in the past,” he explained in a measured tone as his eyes narrowed, the burning frustration written in every line on his face. “I felt bad for you, I still do, so I took pity on you.”

“Oh, so I’m only here because you _pity_ me?” Tim cut across, even though he’d known that all along. Why else would Elliot offer a roof over his head if he didn’t feel sorry for him? It wasn’t as if he had anything to offer him.

“Stop being so infuriating!” Elliot snapped, his voice raising close to a yell. “I’m trying to explain myself and you’re acting like a _child_.” The words felt like a slap to the face. Tim’s mouth dropped open but he said nothing, not quite able to slow his mind down enough to think of anything that quite displayed the anger boiling underneath his skin. “I didn’t have any obligation to tell you about my past. None at all. I’m not that person anymore but I didn’t like lying to you and I wanted to be honest but I had no idea you were going to act like this!” he ranted before finally sighing and letting his chest deflate.

Tim could only stare. Who was this man? He certainly wasn’t the Elliot he thought he’d known before. That Elliot would never insult him by calling him a child. He didn’t really care if the insult was deserved because right now all he could think about was the fact that it hurt and Elliot had been the cause of that hurt. “I need some air,” he muttered finally, eyes dropping to the ground.

“I think that might be a good idea,” Elliot replied in a monotone voice.

Hesitating for only a moment, Tim decided against saying anything else. He’d only make it worse for himself. Forcing himself to meet the other man’s eyes once more, he held the uncomfortable gaze for all of a second before turning and marching out.

His feet carried him towards the only place they knew. He’d been gone from _The Canary_ for all of an hour but that didn’t matter to him, he just needed to be anywhere that wasn’t the apartment. The fresh air didn’t do him nearly enough good and his head practically ached from the chaotic mess that was his brain in that moment. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to scream or cry or both.

Stepping past the bouncers with the weakest smile he could manage, Tim deliberately avoided eye contact with the rest of his colleagues until he reached the bar. “Give me a shot of something. Tequila, vodka, I don’t care,” he requested sharply, sinking down onto the stall. The bartender wasn’t one that Tim particularly knew all too well which he was thankful for but he knew he’d be in trouble the moment their gaze darted up and to the left, right where he was sure somebody was stood at the top of the stairs by the manager’s office. “ _Please_.”

A few seconds later a shot glass filled with a pale orange substance had been placed in front of him and Tim eagerly grabbed it, throwing the drink down his throat before he had any chance to hesitate and overthink the situation. The shot tasted like death and he squirmed in his seat, his face contorting with disgust. _Why do people pay for this shit?_

“What’s up, baby bird?” a gentle voice beside Tim asked. He turned his head slightly and wasn’t at all surprised to find Sara standing there. What _did_ surprise him was the concern written across her face, far from her usual level of confidence or authoritative neutrality.

Confronted by somebody that seemingly did actually care, Tim wasn’t sure what to say. His mouth hung open for a second before he sighed and glanced down at his fidgeting hands. “Elliot and I, uh, had a fight. Turns out he’s been lying to me for a while,” he murmured, not entirely sure how much he should say. He wasn’t sure about _anything_ , really.

Rather than jump to any conclusions, Sara sat down on the stool next to him and turned to the bartender. “Wine. White, big glasses,” she requested, flashing the girl behind the bar a dazzling smile. It was easy to see why so many of the staff had developed crushes on their boss, Tim thought. Hell, in some way he was pretty sure he’d fallen under her spell too. Once the drinks had been delivered (in what had to be record time), Sara pushed one in front of him and waited.

“It’s a long story,” he sighed, sipping experimentally from the wine glass. It was sickly sweet but not nearly as disgusting as the tequila shot had been. He opted for a longer sip just to check.

“I’ve got time,” she replied patiently, the faintest of smiles ghosting over her lips before she moved her glass to them.

Against his better judgment, Tim told her everything that had happened over the past six weeks, from waking up in London to finding out that Elliot’s whole life had been made-up. God, Tim had been so angry that he hadn’t even stuck around long enough to find out exactly what about Elliot’s life _wasn’t_ a lie. He was kicking himself for that. By the time he’d finished he was worried that he’d said too much and Sara would get angry, especially as he’d admitted that he didn’t even know his own name and therefore was working for her under a fake identity.

There was no angry reaction though, nor a stressed or betrayed one. Instead she reached over and pulled him into a brief hug. “I’m sorry, baby bird. You’ve had it rough,” was all she said before she pulled back and looked him deep in the eyes. “You probably shouldn’t go back tonight. You both need time to calm down and then you can talk it over with cooler heads tomorrow.” Tim's back straightened and he blanched at the idea. Tomorrow felt far too soon to face Elliot, he'd need at least a few more days! “I know you don’t want to but you’re going to need to. Whether you like it or not, he’s important to you now and I think you’d be surprised by how important you are to him too.”

Tim finished off his second glass of wine (the first had been finished in the middle of his grand story and with a wave of Sara’s hand it had been quickly replaced) before grimacing. “I have nowhere to go,” he admitted in shame. If he couldn’t go back to the apartment then what other options did he have? Sleeping in the staff room?

“You can stay with me tonight,” Sara replied without any hesitation. “Then tomorrow you’re going to go back to the apartment and you’re going to talk this through. Hear him out, okay? He isn’t the devil.” Tim hated the fact he knew she was right. He was still mad at the other boy, there was no denying it, but he’d overreacted and he knew it. He’d have to apologize for the way he’d spoken to Elliot but he was defiant enough to expect an apology in return too. He felt like he was well deserved one.

“Yeah, okay, you're right,” he sighed in agreement, forcing a weak smile onto his lips. It seemed to appease Sara enough for her to clap him on the shoulder and then wave the bartender down again. Tim just wished that the next drink would dull his thoughts a little more. There had been something eating away at his brain since he'd walked out of the apartment and now he felt a little calmer he couldn't stop thinking about it.

He'd talk things through with Elliot for better or worse and then maybe he could work out whether it was more than just fate that had brought two amnesiacs together…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the fic has been very romance-heavy over the past few chapters but I promise it won't be that way for much longer. Tim/Conner is overall just a subplot to the much larger "amnesia" plot and we'll be getting back to that shortly!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim thinks about puzzles.

To say that Tim slept peacefully would be a complete and utter lie. Sara’s sofa was relatively comfortable, all things considered, but his brain wouldn’t shut down and made it impossible for him to actually relax. Sleep came in short snippets, individual hours at a time. His dreams were equal parts terrifying and confusing, mixing flashes of red light with distant maniacal laughter that sent shivers down Tim’s spine and awoke him whenever it came too close.

Sara looked at him with such concern when the morning finally rolled around that Tim almost felt guilty for not being able to sleep. The nightmares had put him on edge and even though he didn’t feel nearly ready to face Elliot again, he knew he had to because the longer he left it then the worse things would get between them. He couldn’t let his friendship with the other be ruined by one argument, especially when Elliot was all that was holding Tim’s fragile life together at that moment. Perhaps it was selfish to look at it that way but he couldn’t deny that it was true. If he didn’t have Elliot’s favour anymore then he’d be back in the hostel or worse - on the street. There was no way he’d be able to afford an apartment by himself on the pay he got, even from a fairly generous place such as _The Canary_.

“You alright, baby bird?” she asked softly, passing him a much needed cup of a coffee before running a hand through his mess of black hair. He smiled weakly up at her and nodded slightly as he brought the cup to his lips. God, he didn’t know how badly he’d needed it until he had it in his hands. His head was throbbing with what he could only presume was a hangover and the coffee was practically a temporary cure. Coffee truly was a gift from whatever god actually existed up there, he was sure of it.

Sundays were thankfully one of Tim’s days off from the club so he didn’t have to worry about getting more sleep in order to survive a six hour shift later on. He also knew that Elliot worked the early shift on Sundays so he wouldn’t be home until the early afternoon which gave Tim plenty of time to get his head sorted out so he knew exactly what he wanted to say to the other.

Except, when Tim finally got back to the apartment just before ten o’clock in the morning, Elliot was still there. He was sat on the couch, leg bouncing against the ground as he watched the television, very much not at his seven o’clock start for work. His eyes snapped towards the door immediately and Tim felt like a deer in the headlights as the taller boy sprung to his feet.

“Tim, thank god!” Elliot exclaimed, rushing forward and falling short by a few feet. His hands moved as if to embrace him but he clearly thought better of it as he hesitated and then dropped them. Tim was silently thankful for it.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” he replied before he could stop himself. _Probably not the best conversation starter, idiot_.

A nervous smile fluttered across Elliot’s face as his eyes scanned Tim over. He was sure that he probably looked a mess with dark circles around his eyes and his work uniform creased from a night of sleeping in it. “You weren’t answering any of my messages. I thought something bad might have happened to you,” Elliot explained, his voice trailing off into a mumble. "Didn't want to leave until I was sure you were okay."

“My phone died,” Tim admitted, cheeks colouring with shame. He’d avoided looking at it from the moment he’d left the apartment the night before and when he’d woken up at Sara’s it had been totally out of battery. “Sorry.” And then, softer: “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

For a few seconds neither of them said anything. Tim knew there was so much he needed to say but having been caught off guard by the other’s presence, his brain was struggling to catch up. Elliot seemingly wasn’t doing much better, staring at him with his mouth slightly ajar as if he was encouraging himself to speak. As the seconds dwindled on, Tim swallowed his pride and forced himself to go first.

“I’m, uh, sorry about last night too. I overreacted and it was wrong for me to shout at you,” he declared in a voice that was probably a little too formal between friends. He’d been rehearsing the apology in his head since leaving Sara’s apartment and while it wasn’t nearly as complex as he wanted it to be, he thought it did the job. Apparently Elliot agreed because a soft smile crossed over his face and despite his intentions, Tim instantly felt a little more relaxed.

“I’m sorry as well,” the other boy agreed, “I should have been honest with you earlier on.” There was no hesitation in his words, nor any other sign of putting on a front or straight-up lying. Tim felt at least a little reassured by it, even if he was still strangely on edge. Certain thoughts still clawed at the edge of his mind and he felt like he was about to burst at any moment if he didn’t get them out.

Silence fell over the room again and Tim seized the opportunity to hang up his jacket and move further into the apartment. Coffee was calling his name again and it was an urge he wasn’t prepared to fight.

“I don’t really like talking about it,” Elliot spoke up, watching him prepare his second cup of the day from the other side of the kitchen area. “I was so scared and confused. I just felt so weak.” Tim resisted the urge to snidely point out that he knew exactly how that felt and the feeling was a lot more recent for him too. “It took so long to get set up, to get all of _this_ , and you… you made me revisit that part of me and well, it freaked me out.”

“Sorry,” Tim muttered again, keeping his eyes down on the mug as he stirred the coffee granules around.

“You don’t have to apologize for everything.” Elliot’s voice was as soothing as it always was and Tim couldn’t help the small smile that grew on his lips. Maybe he wasn't totally in control of his feelings for the other but he was still heavily back in denial about them.

Before silence could settle in between them again, Tim summed up his courage and gave into the questions begging to be asked. “I know you don’t want to talk about it but… can I ask? What happened, I mean?”

Elliot glanced up at him curiously before shrugging. “How I lost my memory? I have no idea,” he confessed, the strain clear in his voice. Tim felt guilty for asking but he couldn’t stop, not now more questions were being raised.

“What _do_ you remember? Where did you wake up, who was with you?” he pressed, taking his mug and moving into the lounge to sit on the armchair opposite his flatmate.

Elliot was silent for a few moments and Tim worried that he’d pushed too hard too fast before the other sighed. “Nobody was there. I woke up in a shitty motel room on my own with nothing but a few twenties in my pocket,” the other muttered, staring intensely up at the ceiling. Tim sat up a little straighter in his chair, his sad smile twisting into a slight frown. Puzzle pieces were beginning to form in his mind, slowly connecting with what had happened to him.

“Did you see a man? Blond, British, trenchoat?” he asked eagerly.

“Possibly? I don’t know, it was a long time ago. Like I said, lot of guys matching that description in and out of the bakery. Well, maybe not British…”

“Then _think_ ,” Tim urged.

Elliot was silent for a few seconds longer before nodding. “I can’t be certain but… yeah, I might know the guy you’re talking about.”

Tim’s heart beat a little faster. As crazy as it seemed, the puzzle was actually starting to make sense. “Where was he? What did he do?”

“It was, uh-- oh god, he was throwing up in an alley. Drunk as hell. I ran over to ask if he wanted a cab. By the time I got there he was gone but Dixon…” Elliot’s eyes practically flashed with comprehension. “Shit, Dixon was getting mugged. It’s how we met.”

“You saved him?” Tim guessed. It was quickly replied by a small nod of the other’s head. _The favour he called in for me_ , Tim realized. His cheeks flushed at the thought. It all made sense except what the hell their mystery blond had been doing there and how had he disappeared without Elliot seeing him. That was a rather concerning talent of his, judging by his actions back in that London diner. “He’s the key to all this,” he muttered under his breath, catching Elliot’s attention. “The Brit, not Dixon.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Think about it. You had nothing and he showed up at the exact place you could meet Dixon and get your life started, right?” Elliot nodded again. “He shows up again when I’m wasting my time in London. Then _again_ when he leads me to the bakery, to _you_.” Tim couldn’t stop himself from getting excited because finally it felt like he had discovered an actual clue into what had happened to him. There had to be something bigger at play here then he’d initially thought. “There’s a reason for all of this. He’s orchestrated it all.”

Elliot thought it over for a second before slowly nodding. “It would be a pretty wild coincidence if we just happened to meet,” he agreed, pushing himself up to a seated position. “What are you suggesting?”

Tim fell silent for a moment, considering their options. Maybe the puzzle was a little clearer in his mind but it certainly wasn’t complete. They had a long way to go yet but he was pretty sure he knew where to find some more pieces.

“I think we need to track our mutual friend down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you I'd get back to the main story soon!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim meets his boss' boss.

 

It didn’t take much for Tim to realize that he had something of an obsessive personality. It made sense given the intensity of his feelings for Elliot but now that obsessive streak was turned to something else more useful: discovering the identity of their mysterious blond friend and what exactly he wanted with the both of them. Was he an ally or an enemy? Was _he_ responsible for removing the memories they both lacked? Tim wasn’t actually sure how that would be possible but they lived in a strange world where aliens saved the planet and archers dressed in green jumped off buildings in Star City. Whether he liked it or not, he had to accept that anything was a possibility.

Magic wasn’t something Tim seriously wanted to consider but it seemed as good an explanation as any. How else had the money in his wallet practically quadrupled in a matter of seconds? How could the man disappear so quickly and effectively while their heads were turned for a fraction of a second? If he was to accept that their prime suspect was some sort of magician then it raised the further question that what could a magician that was powerful enough to remove a person’s memory possibly want with him and Elliot? Just who had they been before this to warrant such an extreme measure?

Deciding that it was better to get these burning questions out of his head and into the open, Tim had invested in a large pin-board that now covered the majority of a wall in his bedroom. Pinned in the middle was a rough (and truthfully, fairly inaccurate because Tim never claimed to have a perfect memory - all puns aside) sketch of the mystery man and red string lead away to a number of questions that he was currently lacking the answers for. Under each question was a sheet of paper that consisted of nothing but scribbled suggestions and each seemed more ridiculous than the last.

To put it lightly, Tim was pretty sure he was going out of his mind trying to get his head around this mystery. Even though he knew it was dangerous to let it consume his whole life, he couldn’t quite stop himself to stop thinking about it. Even when he was eating dinner with Elliot he found himself looking at the other more intently, not because he was lost in the other’s gorgeous eyes but because he just wanted to _know_. Who had Elliot been before all this? Had he been a good person? A villain?

 _Oh God, what if we’re just ex-villains they’re trying to give a second chance by removing their memories?_ No, that couldn’t be it. Tim didn’t feel like an inherently bad person and Elliot certainly wasn’t either. That was one theory too far.

Perhaps they were experiments in some sort of twisted game been played by the magic users of the world. They’d been totally normal people before this and for whatever reason they had been chosen for this game. Given the other options, it seemed like the most believable idea in all honesty but it sent shivers down Tim’s spine. The thought that he was always being watched made him feel on edge, like he couldn’t quite trust that there wasn’t somebody invisible watching him at any given moment.

“You’re going to be late for work if you stare at that for much longer,” a voice from Tim’s side declared, snapping him out of his thoughts. He glanced over his shoulder to find Elliot watching him closely. Tim pointedly hadn’t involved the other boy in his investigation all that much because he knew thinking about his forgotten life was still an uncomfortable topic for him. There would come a time when he’d need to push Elliot for more information or request his help but for now Tim was okay doing this solo. He was the one that was desperate for answers, after all.

Clearing his throat, Tim took a step back and smiled at the other boy. “You’re right,” he agreed, staring at where his work uniform had been laid out on top of his bedsheets. “Don’t wanna be late.”

It was a good thing Elliot had interrupted when he had because the moment Tim stepped through the doors to the jazz club he discovered just how spot on he’d been with that last sentence. He’d barely taken a few steps inside when he was grabbed by Olivia, a pretty blond waitress whose shifts always seemed to coincide with him. “The boss is in tonight,” she hissed, keeping her hands tight on his wrists.

Tim could only frown in response. “Sara’s _always_ in,” he pointed out, glancing over Olivia’s shoulder to see where the rest of the staff was.

“No, not Sara. _Dinah_ ,” the girl replied, her words seemingly carrying a weight that Tim just didn’t understood. Too new, he guessed. When he apparently didn’t give Olivia the reaction she was looking for she let out a dramatic sigh and pulled away from him. “You know, Sara’s sister? The big boss lady? She only swings by like once or twice a year and she’s here tonight!”

 _Oh. Okay._ Tim could totally see why that might be a stressful situation. He wasn’t going to let it bother him though, not when he already had so much else on his mind. It had been a fairly calm week since his argument with Elliot and even though they were back on good terms, Sara had continued to regularly check up on him at various points throughout his shifts. Tim didn’t mind all that much though, especially considering Sara was such good company and always managed to make every employee under her care genuinely wanted. It was a special quality to have, especially for a boss.

Tim’s shift was almost finished by the time Sara appeared at the top of the staircase and waved him over. It had been a busy night and as such he’d totally missed Dinah’s arrival. Olivia and Dixon had been whispering back and forth for two hours and yet Tim hadn’t seen the woman they were all supposedly so scared of. “It’s not like she’s a bad person,” Dixon had explained in a low voice once he was sure they weren’t being watched, “She’s just scary as hell.”

“She’s a master of like every kind of martial arts,” Olivia pitched in. Truth be told, Tim wasn’t sure how that was supposed to intimidate him. Did she make a habit of beating up under-performing employees or something?

Still, as he began his ascent up to the manager’s office he couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. Sara smiled as she stepped back into the office, holding the door open for him and he returned the smile without any hesitation. Like so many of his colleagues he had formed an easy bond with her and he felt strangely relaxed around her considering he was nothing more than her employee.

“Laurel, this is the kid I was telling you about,” Sara declared as she closed the door behind him. Tim’s eyes were instantly drawn to the unknown presence in the room: a dark-haired woman with a sharp jawline and a regal beauty about her that both terrified Tim and drew him in closer. _Laurel?_ Ever too curious for his own good, Tim couldn’t help but question the name. Why had the rest of his colleagues been calling her Dinah all night if her own sister referred to her by another name?

Before Tim could seriously consider any possibly answers, the woman rose from the desk and strode forward to hold out her hand. “My sister’s told me a lot about you, Timothy Potter,” she acknowledged, her eyes scanning him from head to toe. For the first time in a while Tim felt truly scrutinized and fought the urge to glance down at his feet in shame. He didn’t want to give the impression that he was weak, especially not to his boss’ boss.

“Just Tim is fine,” he told her after swallowing his nerves and reaching out to shake her hand. Her grip was firm and strong but Tim matched it with equal pressure for a few moments before letting her hand drop. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

Behind him Sara barked out a laugh. Dinah’s - Laurel’s? - lips curled up into a small smile. “Dinah,” she corrected him patiently. Tim tried not to feel too embarrassed. There was nothing bad about showing proper manners, after all.

Of course all that went out the window because apparently Tim couldn’t keep his mouth shut for too long. “How come Sara calls you Laurel?” he asked before he could stop himself, only to freeze up moments later. Dinah’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Dinah’s the name of our mother too,” she explained, moving back around the desk to sit in the boss’ chair. Tim glanced over at Sara to see if the move had affected her at all but she was already busy pouring them each out a glass of wine. He held him back from suggesting that maybe it wasn’t the best idea for him to be drinking on the job. “I’ve always been Laurel to family.” That made sense. Tim liked questions with easy answers, that much he was certain of.

Hesitantly taking a seat opposite Dinah, Tim flashed Sara an appreciative smile as she handed him the glass of wine before perching herself on the edge of the desk. “Not to be rude or anything but, uh, what was I called up here for?” he asked, covering up his nerves with a sip from the drink. _Yup, still a little too sweet_. “Is it cliché if I ask if you’re firing me?”

The sisters both smiled and Tim immediately saw the family resemblance as clear as day. He knew in a heartbeat that while the Lance sisters were both incredibly beautiful, there was no way he’d want to cross them especially when they were together. That would surely spell doom for any man foolish enough to do so.

“We’re not firing you,” Dinah confirmed, relaxing back in the armchair that Sara apparently worked in. Tim couldn’t help but be a little jealous. Who else got that level of comfort in their workplace? Instead of immediately explain, Dinah narrowed her eyes at him and stared at him so intently that he was pretty sure she was looking straight into his brain. “Have we met before?” she asked suddenly, taking him by surprise.

Tim glanced nervously at Sara but her face was infuriatingly impassive. She had to know how useless Tim would be at answering that, right? Tim could only look back at Dinah and focus, begging himself to remember something - anything. “I don’t believe so,” he admitted, cheeks flushing a faint pink. How was he to know if their paths had ever crossed before?

Dinah hummed thoughtfully, her eyes not leaving him for a moment. Suddenly feeling very insecure, Tim took another long sip from his drink. “You must just have one of those faces, hmm?” she surmised after a moment, a smile spreading out over his face again. It didn’t feel quite as warm as before though and Tim couldn’t help but wander exactly what was going through her mind. Was there something she knew about him?

“Do _you_ think we’ve met before?” he challenged, his gaze locked firmly on her even as Sara shifted to rest a hand on his shoulder.

The few seconds before Dinah finally replied felt like an infuriating lifetime. “Perhaps. A long time ago, maybe. Then again, as I said you may just have a familiar face.” _That’s not a real answer_. There was no way he could push the topic further without sounding demanding and maybe that wasn’t the best first impression to make. Luckily Dinah seemed happy to let the conversation drop and her expression shifted into something more pleasant than her usual serious demeanour. “So, Tim, I want you to tell me _exactly_ what it's like to work for my darling sister. Consider this her formal review…”

Sara’s dramatic scoff was enough to bring a smile back to Tim’s eyes. Something about Dinah made him very uneasy so he grasped at the distraction desperately and clung on for real life. While he forced himself to act as laid-back and lighthearted as he was sure the others were expecting him to be, his mind was working a thousand miles an hour once more.

_What is it you know about me, Dinah Lance? And more importantly, why aren’t you telling me?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dinah Laurel Lance is forever the bae. I couldn't resist the urge to bring her in!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim investigates the mysterious Dinah Lance.

_Just who are you, Dinah Lance?_

There was just something about the woman that unnerved Tim and he wasn't quite sure. It wasn't just that she was his employer because he hadn't felt the same hesitation around Sara, it somehow ran deeper than that. There was something in the way she had looked at him that sent a shiver down his spine, as if she could look straight through his eyes into his brain and learn all of his secrets. Maybe even the secrets he didn't even know about. He wouldn't put it past her.

Even though he hadn't run into the lady in question since their office meeting - Dixon had told him that Dinah had taken off on another trip - she had continued to play on Tim's mind and his obsessive nature ran with it. She had found a place on Tim's pinboard, right next to the crude drawing of the mystery blond man. Elliot had only frowned at him when he presented the newest mystery in the confusing battleground that was his past. 

"Are you really sure Dinah has any involvement in any of this?" Elliot had asked, a cocktail of confusion, worry and pity obvious in his eyes. Tim did his best to fight back at the irritation that threatened to come to the surface because the last thing he needed was another argument with Elliot. While they had patched up most of their issues from their first big argument, things still felt fragile and Tim didn't want to do anything that put it back in jeopardy. He rather liked having a roof over his head and when he wasn't keeping secrets from him Elliot happened to be pretty great company. Plus he was still just as easy on the eyes as ever which was always a plus of course.

"I'm like... eighty percent sure," Tim had replied before his lips curved into a frown. "Okay, maybe seventy-five. There's definitely something weird about her though." And because Tim apparently didn't know when to stop getting involved, he had decided that Dinah was due some investigation.

Thankfully because he had a full name and occupation to go off, the investigation had a much smoother start than the one into the blond John Doe that was plaguing his mind so much. It didn't take much to do a quick search for her online and within a few hours he'd already compiled some key information about her history and the Canary Jazz Club's founding. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't find any significant social media accounts linked to her aside from an Instagram under the name of "LaurelExplores" which was nothing but images of mountains and temples from around the world - and that irritated him more than it probably should have. What sort of person didn't have any social media in this day and age? Where were her selfies or embarrassing pictures of Sara that all siblings seemed to have stocked up.

Tim was pretty sure he didn't have any siblings or any family of note, really. They probably would have found him already if that was the case or they straight up didn't care which meant Tim didn't care all that much in return. He was sure that he would have heard _something_ if they were really looking for him. It wasn't like he didn't check every "Missing Persons" list he could every single morning, just to see if he matched any of the descriptions. So far that had come up with nothing.

In absence of any personal information on Dinah's background, Tim's next option had been to see what he could find about Sara's upbringing. That gave him much more pause for concern because it almost seemed perverse to go behind his boss' back like that. He didn't suspect her of having any involvement in his past life - hell, he wasn't even sure if Dinah did - but there was something of going on and he was desperate to get to the bottom of it. The prospect of a mystery just waiting to be unraveled, especially one involving him, was far too good to pass up. 

Sara was much easier to find on social media; she had almost every social media under the sun and they were all updated regularly, mainly selfies with friends (most of whom Tim recognized from the bar - he told himself that the strange feeling washing over him wasn't a pang of jealousy that so far he was yet to be featured in a photo) or spoilerific reviews for the broad variety of television shows she watched. No matter how deep he scrolled through her Twitter feed he could find very little mention of her mysterious sister, just two Tweets a few months apart about wanting to join Dinah in Taiwan and Sydney respectively.

After three hours of looking through Sara's public profiles Tim finally closed the investigation down and let the shame wash over him to prying like that. _Maybe I should just ask Sara about Dinah?_ his brain suggested, only for Tim to balk at the idea. He wasn't sure he had it in him to be a convincing liar and the last thing he wanted was for Sara to become suspicious of him. She was already doing him a favor by keeping him employed despite knowing that he was living under a fake identity and he really didn't want to test her loyalty because he was pretty sure it wouldn't end well for him. He wasn't even sure why Sara had been telling Dinah about him, especially enough for her older sister to call him in for a personal introduction. Had she done that for the rest of the staff at the club too or did Sara know something about what was going on with him too? 

Truth be told, he wasn't sure he was ready for those answers either. This mystery had the potential to get messy and already he was starting to feel like he was out of his depth. It wasn't enough to stop him though, he was going to take on the challenge whether he was ready for it or not.

"What are you thinking about?" Elliot asked over dinner that night, his voice dripping with concern. He seemed to have a way of doing that, making Tim's issues sound like the most important thing in the entire world. Tim wasn't sure if he was touched by it or even a little weirded out. Still, it was better than having no company at all and he knew that he wasn't exactly being subtle considering all he'd done for the past fifteen minutes was push his curry around the bowl without taking any more than three bites from it.

"Dinah Lance," Tim confessed before he could stop himself. A faint pink blush colored his cheeks as Elliot raised his eyebrows and a small smirk spread out across his lips. "Not like that," he added before Elliot could even open his mouth to make some sly comment. He had to know that Tim really wasn't interested in girls like that, especially not ones who were probably around ten years older than him and looked like they could terrify men to death with a single sharp look. "There's something going on with her, El, I know it!"

Elliot smiled sympathetically. "So what is it? What's she up to?" he asked after a moment before shoving another load of food into his mouth.

Tim could only frown. "I don't know," he admitted, "But I'll found out. She's met me before, I know it. I just need to find out _how_." That was much easier said than done considering she had absolutely no online presence. All he knew was that she owned a jazz club franchise that she barely tended to and enjoyed traveling the world a lot. Her employees were either in awe of her or straight up terrified and yet her sister looked at her as if she'd personally hung the moon in the sky. It really wasn't much to go on, unless -

"Hey, what do you think about taking a trip to Star City with me sometime?"


	14. Chapter 14

"Why are you going to _Star City_?" Sara asked, narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously. Tim had opted to come clean to his boss about why he wanted the following weekend off work and had head up to her office during his break to try and win some good will. It wasn't as if he'd called in sick or asked for time off at all over the past two months so he felt fairly confident in his chances. Apparently it was more his destination choice more than anything that raised an issue. That had certainly been a curve ball.

"Wanted a change of scenery," Tim replied, shrugging a slender shoulder in as casual a manner as possible. "Plus, you know, I was hoping it might jog my memory," he added in a lower voice. Since the night of his argument with Elliot he hadn't really spoken to Sara about his missing memory and he felt more comfortable that way but it felt like the ideal moment to play the 'sob story' card. It wasn't as if it was a total lie either, maybe there was something in Star City that could spark his memory or give him some more clues to piecing his mind back together.

Sara looked at him for a few seconds later, doing her best impression of her older sister's icy cold stare, before she finally relaxed into the warm smile he knew her best for. "You're not considering a move, are you?" she asked after a moment, relaxing back in her armchair. "They might be the bigger club but I have it on good authority that our customers tip better, plus we don't have _Oliver Queen_ hanging around to bug us all the time." Tim laughed nervously, not quite sure just how serious the woman was being. Why would he uproot his life to Star City when he barely had it held together in New York? Starting afresh yet again was precisely the last thing he wanted to do and besides, he'd grown rather attached to Dixon and his other colleagues so he wasn't planning to leave them behind.

"No, god no. I like New York way too much for that," he informed her, forcing a smile onto his lips. He wasn't actually sure just how much he liked the city he currently called home but he had good people around him and the club was a good place to work so he supposed he couldn't complain. The only real issue was the hustle and bustle of crowds in the city as he tried to make his work earlier in the day and the lack of greenery in the immediate surroundings. _Something tells me that Star City will be a lot more Green, if you get my drift_. Tim couldn't help but smirk at his internal pun which understandably only seemed to confuse Sara even more. 

"I guess you've worked hard enough for a weekend off," Sara sighed after a moment, a relaxed grin spreading across her face. "You're going with El, right?" There was a suggestiveness laced in her words and a twinkle in her eyes that made Tim feel a little apprehensive. Considering their last conversation about Tim's flatmate, she couldn't still think something was going on between them, could she? Things had cooled off since then in a major way and while Tim still sometimes found himself getting lost in the other boy's eyes, the sting of his secrets still held him back from wanting things to progress any further. Besides, he was far too busy trying to uncover just what the hell was going on with their forgotten lives to think about anything as trivial as romance.

Before Tim even had the time to formulate a reply there was a loud crashing sound from the main area of the club. Tim sat up a little straighter, suddenly alert, but Sara only rolled her eyes, apparently unconcerned. "What now?" she huffed, pushing herself up and marching past him towards the office door.

Tim wasn't sure what he'd been expecting to see but it certainly wasn't the chaos that had greeted him. Instead of a simple overturned tray and smashed glasses littering the floor, the entire population of the club were crouched down under anything they could take cover behind as a gang of masked thugs began to spread out. The majority of them had baseball bats in their hands and three had semi-assault rifles held comfortably in their hands. Tim's eyes glanced towards the door where he miserably spotted their bouncers splayed out on the floor, both knocked out cold.

"Fuck," Sara gasped, hesitating for only a moment before launching into action. She shot down the stairs with a speed Tim had never expected of her and he barely had time to register that she was running headfirst into danger before he was off after her. His brain was running at a thousand miles a second and he wasn't quite sure what he was doing but he knew that he couldn't let Sara get hurt and with the situation at hand there was every chance that she was going to end up in serious trouble. Tim counted no less than eight thugs, six male and two female. The men were big and burly, their oversized muscles practically busting out of their shirts and the women among them were just as toned, every one of them looking like they'd spent their whole lives training for a fight.

"Get down on the fucking ground!" their leader, one of the women armed with a rifle, boomed from the round table she had climbed upon. It was a moot point really because almost everybody in the club was cowering in fear, including the rest of the staff. Only Sara, Tim and the small army of thugs remained on that feet and that drew far too large a target on Tim's chest to feel comfortable.

Apparently Sara didn't have the same reservations because she marched straight towards the leader, hands balling into fists. Even from behind her, Tim could recognize her older sister's icy cold fire in her and felt sorry for anybody that got in her way. That said, Sara wasn't bulletproof and Tim wasn't about to let her get hurt. He could almost hear Elliot's concerned voice in his head telling him to get down and out of harm's way but he didn't dwell on that, not when there was a more immediate danger to one of his friends. He couldn't get down and cower for his life, that just wasn't who he was.

Sara had barely made it within a few feet of the leader's table when she was grabbed by one of the male thugs. He tugged her by the arm, yanking her off of her feet and unceremoniously throwing her to the ground. "Didn't you hear the lady?" he grunted as he lifted his baseball bat higher. Fear seized Tim and even as he prepared to lunge forward, the world seemed to explode around him.

Before Tim could register what was going on, several of his colleagues had sprung from their hiding spaces in defense of their boss. Dixon was the closest and within seconds he had thrown himself from behind a nearby table onto the thug's back, arms looping around the thugs shoulder to pull him sharply back. The added weight sent them both tumbling to the ground but before Tim could try to pull the baseball bat away from them both, a hand grabbed him by the hair and yanked him back.

For a few seconds all Tim could see were stars. His head throbbed with stinging pain before his brain sprung into action, every fibre of his being telling him to _fight_. With quick-thinking and reflexes he wasn't aware he possessed, Tim stamped down on the thug's foot and as the grip on his hair loosened he buried his elbow into his attacker's gut. Finally free of the other's grip, he turned and delivered a swift blow to the man's exposed throat followed moments later by a kick to the groin. In all of ten seconds his attacker had gone from having the upper hand to being sprawled out on the floor, choking for breath and squirming in pain.

Tim's amazement in his own actions was cut short by the unmistakable crack of a gunshot.

Hours seemed to pass in mere seconds as Tim looked around for both the source and the victim. _Please don't be Sara, please don't be_  -- it wasn't. Sara was stood nearby, messy blonde hair covering her eyes and both arms clasped behind her back by one of the thugs. That wasn't stopping her from struggling though and Tim was already making a plan to free her when he felt something cold press against the back of his skull. It didn't take a genius to figure out that it was the barrel of a gun.

"Don't move, babybird." Sara's voice was soothing despite the rage bubbling under the surface as she looked up at the leader. As her hair parted, the cold fury in her eyes was exposed and a shiver ran down Tim's spine. Any doubt that Tim had that Sara could be as terrifying as her sister was immediately destroyed. The Lance sisters were made of cold steel and Tim for one certainly didn't fancy his chances with any of them. How the thugs weren't shying away under Sara's withering glare was a mystery to him. 

Doing his best to remain still, Tim let his eyes dart around in a desperate search for anybody who might be injured. The leader was bellowing at the top of her voice, commanding her gang to empty as many wallets and purses as they possibly could. Grab the jewelry, empty the cash register, all the usual things. Well, what Tim expected was pretty usual for this kind of heist. He hadn't exactly been present for any before. It was the pained groan of a familiar voice that finally drew Tim's attention to the right spot and he inhaled sharply as Dixon came into his view, perched against the wall with his hand pressed against his side and a dark stain spreading out across his white shirt. His eyes were glassy and unfocused and his head drooped as he clung to the remains of consciousness. Fire burned inside Tim as he watched his struggling friend but he knew that despite his fury there was nothing he could do without ending up in a similar state - or even worse.

The last thing Tim expected was to be snapped out of his terrified daze by the sound of laughing. It was hollow and dark and more surprisingly, coming from Sara. Tim stared at her in confusion, the dread setting in again. _What the hell is she doing?_  He wasn't the only one staring at her now. In fact pretty much every pair of eyes was looking her way as she raised her head higher and looked the gang leader straight in the eye. "What?" the crook asked, aiming her rifle straight at the bar manager.

"Oh, you're going to be so pissed when you find out who my sister is."

"Why wait?" a familiar voice declared from behind them all. "I'm here now." Tim's eyes darted towards the stage at the very back of the club and his eyes almost bulged out of his head when he saw the source of that voice. The _Black Canary_  was standing there, blonde hair falling in waves over her shoulders as black leather met black lace to form her instantly recognizable costume. That wasn't what really caught Tim's attention though. It was that even behind the black mask he recognized those steely eyes casting out a look that could kill. 

_Dinah Lance._

The thugs had barely had the chance to aim their weapons towards her, some pulling pistols out from beneath their jackets before the Black Canary dropped down into a fighting stance and _screamed_. The noise was nothing like Tim had ever experienced before and even though he knew he was putting himself at risk, he immediately clasped his hands over his ears. The gang leader had been thrown from where she was still stood on the table by the sheer force of the scream and she landed on the other side of the bar, smashing bottles in her fall.

Without giving time for any of them to recover, Tim forced himself back and barreled into the thug who had been pressing their gun against the back of his head just moments before. Still dazed by the Black Canary's scream, they tripped over their own legs and dropped towards the ground. With reflexes that should have been impossible, Tim caught them by the top of their ski mask mid-fall and increased momentum to slam the thug's head down against the ground, knocking them completely out cold.

Hands grabbed Tim from behind and he began to lurch to the side when dirty blonde hair fell into his view and he realized it was Sara. "We need to get Dix to safety," she whispered and he only nodded before launching into action. He couldn't help but glance over to the stage where the Black Canary was easily ducking under the blows of two thugs armed with baseball bats. Within five seconds she'd floored the both of them and was marching towards the others.

Dixon was in a bad shape by the time they made it to him. Sara grabbed him by the jaw, forcing him to look up at her. His eyes were glassy and his grip on his bloody side was so weak that Tim quickly swept in to apply more pressure to it. "We can't move him," he pointed out. They were only going to make things worse and right now there were only a few worse options for Dixon in his current state, none of which Tim was willing to consider. He wasn't about to let Dixon die, it just wasn't happening.

"Okay, okay. We wait," Sara breathed, eyes scanning over her downed employee as fear practically radiated off of her. Despite the high tension of the situation, Tim felt strangely calm. Perhaps it was the presence of a genuine superhero that kept him feeling hopeful that they'd all make it through this perfectly okay, Dixon included. Behind them the sounds of a fight were loud and violent but Tim didn't dare look away from Dixon for fear of missing something. Even though she was clearly attempting to internalize everything, Sara wasn't doing quite as good a job as she probably believed she was and Tim knew he needed to be there for the both of them.

Silence fell over the trashed jazz club for a few seconds and for several long seconds Tim waited in fear of hearing the sound of a gun being cocked but it never came. Instead a hand wrapped around Sara's shoulder, rubbing soothing circles in it. "NYPD are on their way," Dinah said from above her sister. "Paramedics too. He's going to be okay." Sara's shoulders relaxed a little as if her sisters words were gospel and Tim suddenly felt very insecure for witnessing a presumably rare tender moment between the two sisters.

"I-- I'm a doctor," a voice spoke up from beside Tim. He glanced over to see one of their regular customers, a man in his fifties with white streaks in his otherwise black hair. His usually immaculate suit was a little ruffled up and his hands were shaking ever so slightly but other than that he seemed unharmed. Tim was more than happy to step aside and let the doctor take his place, breathing a sigh of relief that it was out of his hands now. The paramedics would be soon and Dixon was going to be okay, he knew it.

He had taken all of three steps away when a hand brushed against his shoulder. Tim fought back the sudden urge that sparked inside him telling him to grab the hand and flip the person over the shoulder, and he was certainly glad he did so when he turned to see Dinah watching him closely. Her glare had softened but he still got the distinct impression she was looking directly into his soul. "Are you alright?" she asked in a voice so soft that Tim struggled to match it up to the fierce exterior. After a moment he nodded and was rewarded by a small smile spreading across her lips. "Sara never said you could fight."

"I had no idea I could," Tim confessed truthfully. "Honestly, I'm not sure how I did any of that."

There was no immediate reply. Instead Dinah stared at him long and hard for a few seconds before nodding. "You've got a talent, kid. Next time I'm in town, you should train with me," she offered, sending Tim's mind into uncontrollable backflips. _The Black Canary wants me to train with her?_  This had to be a dream. There was no way this was actually happening and yet there she was, walking back towards her sister and wrapping her arms around the younger woman. Even as the NYPD and paramedics flooded the club to perform their duties, most of the eyes were still on the hero in their midst and Tim couldn't blame them. He'd never expected to see a superhero with his own eyes, let alone actually interact with one.

As he dismissively assured a paramedic that he wasn't injured, Tim felt his mind burn with new questions. The night's events had only made him question himself even more and he couldn't shake the feeling that maybe he was a little closer to getting the answers he so desperately sought. Collapsing into a colleague's waiting embrace, Tim found the fires inside him impossible to quell. He felt like he could take on an army. The whole world. This wasn't the kind of guy he recognized himself as, at least not the paranoid and obsessive boy he'd been for the past two months.

_Who the hell am I?_


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim can't sleep.

Elliot, predictably, had fussed over Tim from the moment he'd gotten home. Now that the adrenaline had finally worn off, his head had started to throb with pain and he felt like his legs were about to give way at any moment. His heart pounded in his chest and he simply had too many questions keeping his restless mind awake. 

"What happened, are you okay?" the other boy asked, wrapping his strong arms around him. Tim gave way to the comfort, his eyes fluttering closed for a few moments. "Ric text me, he said something about a gang and Dix...

_Oh god, Dixon_. There had been no news of him since Tim had left the club and the worry came creeping back in for his friend. The last he had seen of him, Dixon was being loaded into the back of an ambulance and rushed off to the emergency room. Sara had gone with him, refusing to leave his side and Tim couldn't blame her. He hadn't wanted to leave either but he simply couldn't stay still or focus on anything. He felt like a danger to everyone around him while he was in this state and he simply didn't understand it.

"Dix got shot," Tim confessed, probably far more blunt than he should have been. "He's... I think he's going to be okay. He's at the hospital." Elliot's body tensed around him and Tim buried his head against the other's shoulder for a moment before pulling back. The pain was obvious in the other boy's eyes and all Tim wanted to do was to find a way to make it go away. He needed Elliot to be his rock right now, as selfish as that was, because he wasn't sure what he would do if the other started to fall apart.

"Were you hurt?" Elliot asked after several long moments of silence. 

Tim pulled back, glancing down at himself to double check. Back at the club he'd felt somewhat invincible as he fought back and aside from having his head pulled back, he wasn't sure he'd sustained any other injuries."No, I'm fine," he assured the other, his lips parting into a weak smile. "I... I fought back." It wasn't as simple as that though. His fighting hadn't been the panicked swings of an average terrified victim, they had been calculated movements from somebody who knew exactly what they were doing and Tim didn't know _how_. He'd been running entirely on instinct and apparently he had the instincts of a trained fighter which only made him even more confused about his past.

Confusion flashed over Elliot's face, quickly followed by relief and then concern. "Tim, you could have been hurt. _Shot_ , apparently! What were you thinking?" he demanded, his voice cracking in what was either anger or worry. Tim wasn't quite as good at reading Elliot as he thought he was apparently.

"Are you mad at me for fighting back?" Tim asked, jaw dropping open. Frustration rushed through him as he ran a hair through his hair. _Too long_ , he told himself. _Too easy to grab._  Why did that bother him so much? Why did it even matter?

"No!," the other replied somewhat sharply. After a moment he let out a sigh and his shoulders sagged. "Of course I'm not," he said, softer this time, "I was just concerned. I don't want you getting hurt."

Tim bit his tongue so he didn't sarcastically reply _I don't want to be hurt either_  because sarcasm was hardly going to help this situation. It was better to defuse it before it really became an issue which was apparently a running concern in his friendship with Elliot these days. Tim wasn't sure why their initial argument played on his mind as often as it did but he still felt terrified that everything would come crashing down at the slightest inconvenience. 

"I'm fine," he repeated slowly, forcing the smile back onto his face and giving the other a comforting pat on the shoulder. "I just need something to eat and then to pass out for like a day." In the grand scheme of things, Tim's hunger won out above his exhaustion. He wasn't sure what that said about him as a person but these days what was he really sure of anyway?

Sleep didn't come quite as comfortably as Tim had been hoping that night. He tossed and turned, feeling the ghost of the gun against the back of his skull every time he closed his eyes and hearing Dixon's soft gasping for breath in the silence that threatened to smother him. At four in the morning his phone sprung to life with a message from Sara: _Dixon's going to be okay. Club's closed for the rest of the week. Sleep well._  Despite the relief he felt at the affirmation that his friend was going to be okay, he knew there was no chance he'd get to sleep now so instead of relaxing back, he pushed himself up and set about making himself a flask of coffee.

It was hardly the first time Tim had seen New York City at half four in the morning considering his normal working hours but somehow it seemed different. He deliberately took opposite turns, walking down streets he didn't know quite so well and eventually his feet took him to the one place he hadn't realized he'd even been looking for. He stared up at the glowing neon sign - _Wildcat Gym: Open All Hours!_ \- and breathed out a sigh of relief. Maybe he couldn't sleep away the tension but he felt pretty confident that he could beat it out.

The entrance to the gym was immediately followed by a staircase leading down into the basement and Tim followed it without hesitation. As he reached the final step he glanced around, taking in the boxing ring in one corner and the weight machines in another. It was surprisingly large but unsurprisingly empty with only a receptionist and three others currently occupying the vast space. The receptionist glanced at him strangely as he paid the requested entrance fee and moved past the gates into a small locker room area. The jeans and tank top combo that he'd pulled on after scrambling out of bed were hardly the best choice of clothing for a workout but he was willing to adapt. 

Tim found himself drawn to a punching bag and gave it a few experimental swings. It felt so easily to block out the world around him, not caring if the others were watching him as he started to aim his jabs with more precision and power. His mind began replying the Black Canary's words, her offer to train him the next time she was in town. Tim could only imagine she was already on the road again. The Black Canary was so rarely sighted in public that some people believed her to be nothing more than a myth but Tim knew better than that. Hell, now he knew more than most. The Black Canary was very real and she happened to be the sister of his boss. Hell, she technically _was_  his boss.

His boss was reportedly one of the best fighters in the world and now Tim had fighting skills he'd known absolutely nothing about. Could that really be a coincidence? Dinah had always looked at him with such an analytic glare that he'd suspected she'd recognized something and now he felt pretty sure he knew why. How had she managed to work out he was a fighter before he had?

A stray thought crept into Tim's mind, one that seemed far too fantastical to possibly be a reality. Was there a chance that _he_ was a vigilante too? Had Dinah recognized him because she'd seen him wearing a mask before? _No, there's no way. I'd know if I was..._  But would he? 

Tim hadn't even realized how hard he'd taken to hitting the punching bag until his knuckles seared with pain. Reluctantly halting, he pulled his hands back and stared at the raw skin, blood creeping through cracks. _Where are your wraps?_  his mind provided, scolding him for his carelessness. Hair too long, no handwraps - why were these things suddenly bothering him?

Forcing himself to trade the punching bag in for a running machine, Tim mentally went over the plans he and Elliot made for their weekend in Star City. He'd just wanted to check out the Canary's over venues to see if it gave him more clues pertaining Dinah's reaction to him. He had much bigger plans now. If one masked hero had such a strange reaction to him, maybe it was time to see if another reacted similarly...

Maybe then he'd be able to put his new crazy theory to rest. He couldn't let himself get lost in a fantasy and he'd prefer to be disappointed sooner rather than later. At least he was pretty sure there were only disappointments heading his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time as a bridge between one large chapter and another. Next up: Star City!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim takes advantage of visiting Star City.

"You look tired," Elliot pointed out, his voice innocent but betrayed by the fact Tim knew him too well. He could tell his flatmate was concerned about him because Elliot was _always_  concerned. It wasn't just for Tim either, it was for Dixon and Ric, for their neighbors, for the whole city. He'd probably worry about the whole goddamn world if he was given the chance. 

Tim forced a bright smile onto his face. It was ore of a struggle than he was proud to admit. "I'm fine," he lied. The night before he'd crept out of their apartment at three in the morning for the third time that week to make his way to Wildcat's Gym, this time with proper workout gear and sufficient wraps for his still scarred hands. He'd taken to shoving his hands in his pockets whenever Elliot was around because the last thing he needed was to give the other boy a genuine reason to fuss over him. Tim knew enough about himself to realize that he detested being treated like a fragile china doll. He was his own man and he could take care of himself, which he'd more than proven barely a week ago. 

Working out his frustrations had certainly helped Tim sort his thoughts out, even if it came at the cost of actual rest. Those nights when he didn't sneak out of the apartment were spent with him tossing and turning miserably, unable to combat the boredom and increasing anxiety consuming his mind. He had the nagging sensation that he needed to be doing _something_ but every time he tried to grasp what it was he was missing, the thought fluttered away. Instead he focused on the small positives, like the fact the receptionist regarded him with less disdain each time he arrived and the other late-night occupants of the gym mostly kept to themselves and didn't trouble him with small talk. Sometimes it felt good not to have to talk to anyone, especially when Elliot always wanted to talk. It made for a nice balance.

The journey from New York City to Star City was a six hour flight from East Coast to West Coast and while Tim had originally had every intention of passing out, it emerged that Elliot was something of a nervous first-time flyer and preceded to fill any potential silences with furiously fast conversation. A few weeks ago Tim would have found it endearing. Now though, he just really wanted some sleep and as such had resorted to replying with little more than grunts and one-word answers.

"What are you even hoping to find here?" Elliot asked after a lull in conversation some five hours into the flight. Tim reluctantly pulled himself out of his near-dozed state to sit up a little straighter. He searched his mind for a concrete answer but nothing provided itself as a reasonable explanation so instead he just shrugged.

What was he supposed to do? Tell Elliot he had suspicions that he might have once been a masked vigilante just because the Black Canary looked at him funny and he knew how to fight? The other boy would laugh his head off at that theory. It was absurd and Tim knew it but the thought had been ingrained in his mind and he couldn't quite shake it no matter how hard he tried. He was sure there was some logical reason for his fighting skills, like perhaps he'd been a wrestler in high school or had taken up boxing as a hobby. While he hadn't ever exactly been muscular, his body was toned to near-perfection and he'd always put that down to a good metabolism and active lifestyle. Maybe his past self had thought exactly the same thing and self defense classes had been just another way to keep fit? See, totally reasonable explanation.

"I don't know. Something that will help," he replied finally before closing his eyes and sinking further down in his seat. He was done with questions now. Elliot could entertain himself. Thankfully the other boy didn't argue and for the next hour Tim was allowed a little bit of the rest he so desperately craved.

Star City turned out to be rather unlike New York. Just as he had expected, the city was simply a lot greener - trees lined most streets and they passed at least six parks on the taxi journey from the airport to the hotel they were staying at. Tim supposed it was a fitting home for the famous Emerald Archer. Even with sleepy eyes he took in his surroundings with delight. Oliver Queen's grinning face stared back at him from every other billboard with the Queen Consolidated logo proudly displayed beside it. There was a positive air in the city that he wasn't quite used to and it was almost intoxicating to the point that he couldn't help but smile. Maybe he was just _really_  in need of some proper sleep.

Throughout the planning of their trip, Tim had hardly stopped to consider the sleeping arrangements for their time in the city. Considering neither of the boys had high-paying jobs it just made sense for them to book a single room with a double bed rather than stretching to two beds or even two rooms. It wasn't until they were actually in the hotel room and Tim had unceremoniously thrown himself on top of the sheets that Elliot cleared his throat. "You, uh, okay with us sharing a bed?" the other asked, finally illuminating Tim to the issue he'd all but ignored.

"What? Of course," he groaned in response, voice muffled by the pillow his face was pressed against. It was only a few moments after he'd spoken that he paused to consider why exactly it might be an issue. Since their kiss some weeks ago Tim had done his best to repress his feelings and he thought he'd done a pretty good job. Then again he'd had the distractions of work and his investigation to busy himself in which had put some understandable distance between him and Elliot and now - well, now they weren't really going to be able to escape each other for a weekend. It seemed like a dangerous prospect.

If Elliot had any response to that then Tim didn't hear it. Sleep claimed him for a matter of seconds and by the time he opened his eyes again, the sunlight creeping through the curtains had been replaced by moonlight and there was a warm body pressed up against his side. Elliot's back was to him and Tim tried to tell himself that admiring the other's smooth skin was just human curiosity and nothing more. There were no flaws to be seen on his skin, no blemishes or scars, just lightly tanned skin stretching over strong muscle. Tim fought back the urge to run his hands across the other's back and instead rolled to the side, letting his feet hit the ground as he pushed himself up and out of the bed.

Star City was much harder to navigate than New York but Tim imagined that was likely down to his familiarity with the latter. Autumn leaves crunched underneath his feet as he wandered through an open park area, staring up at the unfamiliar skyscrapers for a glimpse of green. It would be precisely Tim's luck then that with his gaze so focused on the skies that he collided with somebody unfortunate enough to cross his path.

"Sorry, mate," a familiar gruff voice said, the British accent snapping Tim out of his daze and bringing him crashing down to reality. It took all of a second for Tim to look down and yet somehow the man was some fifteen feet away, his unforgettable beige trench coat flapping in the wind.

_It's him._  

The seconds it took for Tim to spur himself forward felt like a millennia and as the man disappeared around a corner outside of the park Tim feared that he would be gone for good. Instead, there he was, somehow twenty feet ahead of Tim walking down a city street casually as if he hadn't been plaguing Tim's every waking thought for months. A small cloud of tobacco smoke drifted into the air from whatever cheap cigarettes he was smoking and Tim wrinkled his noise in disgust as he rushed forward just in time for the man to slip around another corner.

_What the hell is he doing here?_  The man hadn't been sighted for months and it had driven Tim crazy because there was no way he was of no importance, especially not considering both he and Elliot had experienced similar mystery events surrounding him and his disappearances. He was so close to getting some answers but every time he turned a corner the man seemed further away, at least until -

There he was, stood right at the opening of an alleyway, lighting up another cigarette. He glanced up, eyes meeting Tim's and for the faintest moment a smirk seemed to cross his lips. Tim didn't think twice as he surged forward, determined to get some explanation for what the hell was going on. He knew it was hopeless though when the man stepped back into the shadows. It was just another disappearing trick, it was so obvious!

Sure enough by the time he had sprinted the length of the street to reach the alleyway, the man had entirely vanished. Tim opened his mouth to yell in frustration when quiet scuffling reached his ears and he fell still, listening intently. For a few moments Tim thought the sounds had just been in his mind and yet he still stayed rooted to the spot, anxiously waiting until he heard it. The sounds of a struggle were quiet and distress cries were muffled but it was there, further down the maze of alleyways Tim had found himself in.

A sudden need to take action fired up inside him and Tim charged forward, his legs aching as he forced himself back into a sprint. He rounded the corner and --

"Hey there kiddo," the Green Arrow chirped, grinning at him from behind his emerald green domino mask. Tim could only stare, his mouth hanging open. In the space of ten seconds the archer had somehow defused whatever scuffle had been going on judging by the unconscious thug at his feet and the hysterical teenage boy practically hanging off of his arm. "Nothing to see here, hero. All done and dusted!"

It took Tim a few moments to realize that he was the one being addressed, not the teenager holding onto him for dear life. The sight would have brought a grin to Tim's face if he wasn't so overwhelmed by the events of the last few minutes. "I need to speak to you," he croaked eventually, nerves creeping up inside of him. It wasn't the same feeling he'd felt when first faced with the Black Canary because he'd known immediately who she was. The Green Arrow was an intimidating mystery to him, no matter how pleasant and approachable the hero presented himself.

"I'll be with you in a second then," the archer said in his most charismatic voice before turning to the terrified teenager. Tim cast his eyes to the ground as the Green Arrow whispered a few quiet words to the teenager. He caught the tail-end of the teen's blubbering thank you's and took the sound of the fading footfalls as a sign to look back up again. The unconscious thug had found his way into a zip-tie around his hands and was now perched against the wall as if simply napping in an unconventional location. The Green Arrow himself slung his bow over his shoulders where it slow neatly into place against his quiver. "What can I do for you, son?"

It was the million dollar question. Truth be told Tim had been hoping for a little more preparation time before he faced the other but why waste a golden opportunity like this, especially when it had seemingly been presented to him by the mysterious vanishing man. That only raised more questions but those were for another time because Tim had more pressing concerns at hand. 

"Do you know me?" he asked suddenly, blurting the words out before he could second-guess himself any further. "I mean, have we met before?"

There was no immediate reply. The Green Arrow stepped closer, forcing Tim to look up in order to remain eye contact. All he could really make out of the archer's face was a blond goatee and the slight frown of his lips. There was something familiar about him but like with so many of the things Tim came across, he couldn't quite put his finger on why. "I... I don't recall," the archer replied after a few moments. " _Should_ I know you?"

Tim considered his answer for a moment. "Black Canary does." For the briefest moment the Green Arrow seemed to tense up but before Tim could really be sure, his broad shoulders relaxed again and the moment passed. "Or at least... at least she recognized something about me," he attempted to explain. Nothing about this situation was normal and as such, explaining it to anyone made him sound crazy. He was going to end up getting thrown into Arkham Asylum at this rate. "Please."

Starting up into the hero's bright blue eyes, Tim found himself silently begging for an answer. He desperately needed somebody to recognize him because otherwise he was back at square one and he had nowhere to go from there. For a few moments Tim wasn't sure the other would reply at all, that he'd vanish into the night without an answer. Knowing his luck, Tim wouldn't be overly surprised. "I'm sorry, I can't help you," the older man said finally, his voice soft and sympathetic as he took a step back. Faced with the prospect of losing another lead, Tim took a step forward and summed the rest of his determination.

"Okay, then I have one more question for you," he pushed, already knowing that he was grasping at straws. The Green Arrow had to know _something_ , there was no way the trail went cold here. "I followed a man here. Blond, trenchoat, British, very good at disappearing. Please, do you have any idea who he is?"

It was impossible to tell what was going on underneath the green domino mask but Tim could swear there was a flash of recognition in the man's blue eyes. As if sensing that Tim was studying his every movement, Green Arrow  stepped further away until his face was hidden in the shadow of his hood. "No," he replied curtly, the softness from his voice replaced by the low tones of a voice modulator. "I'm sorry, Tim." And then, before Tim could press any more questions, the archer fired off a grapple arrow, grabbed the mugger and shot off into the distance, disappearing just as suddenly as he'd arrived. All Tim could do was watch him disappear into the night, fighting back the disappointment and frustration that bubbled inside him. _Square one it is._

The night felt very silent as Tim begrudgingly walked back to his hotel. It took longer than expected to navigate the unfamiliar streets and by the time he reached the hotel room his legs ached and his eyelids drooped. Thankfully Elliot was still fast asleep, his broad frame spread out across the bed. Tim pulled his clothes off until he was left in only his boxers and slipped under the sheets, relaxing back against the other's shoulder. The other boy was warm where he was cold and as if sensing what Tim was most in need of, Elliot's arm wrapped around his waist to hold him closer. Tim let out a content sigh and closed his eyes.

It was only when sleep's tender embrace was starting to claim him that he realized he'd never told the Green Arrow his name.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim visits the Star City branch of the Canary Jazz Club.

The Star City branch of the Canary Jazz Club was a lot bigger than its New York City counterpart and Tim couldn't help but feel overwhelmed from the moment he stepped inside. He had thought that his workplace's decorations had been extravagant but it was nothing compared to the place it had all begun. He'd heard the stories from Dixon and the others: this was where Dinah Lance had started a small jazz club, tapping into the classic aesthetic that she loved so much. It had proven to be so popular, thanks in some part to the famous Oliver Queen's regular praising, that she'd eventually made enough to open branches in both Metropolis and New York. While Dinah was still off-the-radar (and for good reason, Tim now realized) the Star City club was under the management of Tommy Merlyn, a charismatic man who was clearly hiding more secrets than his charming smile would suggest.

"Are you looking for a transfer?" Tommy asked, his gaze drifting up and down Tim as they stood by the bar. Tim felt like a piece of meat out for display under the other's inspection and shifted nervously, his grip tightening on the glass of wine the manager had bought him. "Sara seems to think a lot of you," he added for good measure, causing an involuntary smile to break out on Tim's face. He'd had no idea Sara spoke about him so often - first to Dinah and now to Tommy? He was almost beginning to wonder if she had ulterior motives.

"I don't think so. New York's more my speed than Star City," he answered, flashing a guilty smile at the other. "I just wanted to have a look around while I was in town."

Tommy's eyebrows raised. "And your in town because..." he let the words hand, waiting for Tim to fill in the blank. Tim couldn't help but wonder whether Sara had put him up to it, still suspicious about his reasons for visiting a city on the opposite side of the country. He couldn't exactly blame her either, it was a random choice especially for somebody who apparently had no personal ties to the city.

"Just wanted a break," Tim countered, forcing himself to sound more innocent than he felt. The last thing he needed was to draw any more suspicion onto himself. He couldn't risk the only good thing he had going for him by putting his job in jeopardy and in all honesty, the thought of Sara and Tommy gossiping about him left him feeling uneasy. Had she told him about Tim's extraordinary circumstances too? He hoped not. 

Truth be told, the only reason Tim had stopped into the club was because he knew it was expected of him. Sara would likely check in to see if he made a visit and if he didn't then he'd be facing a whole horde of questions by the time he returned to New York. It was better to just get it over and done, plus after the long night he'd had a drink seemed fairly welcome. "A break, hmm?" Tommy asked and Tim got the distinct impression that there was more weighted in that question than he let on. There was something about Tommy that just didn't sit right with him and the way he looked at him as if he was a wolf stalking his prey sent a shiver down Tim's spine. What was it with Sara associating with people who looked like they wanted to kill him if only given the chance? He'd be a perfect match for Dinah, that was for sure. "And that would have nothing to do with a certain Emerald Archer?"

Tim paused, his lips curving into a slight frown. "He's our biggest source of tourism, you know. Well, that and people desperate to get a sight of the great Oliver Queen," Tommy continued, leaning in closer. "Stick around and you might just see both." There was something about the way he spoke and the knowing smirk on his lips that made Tim feel even uneasier, as if he knew something Tim didn't. Considering the state of his mind and his unreliable memory, he wouldn't be overly surprised if that was the case.

"Hey, you ready to go?" a familiar voice spoke up behind Tim. A hand pressed itself against the small of his back and he couldn't help to relax against it, smiling up at Elliot. The other boy wasn't looking at him though, his glare was fixed on Tommy and its intensity took Tim by surprise. Sure, the other man was leaning in close and his predatory smile was almost suggestive but Tim still hadn't quite expected such a strong reaction from his friend. _It's because he cares_ , an unhelpful voice in the back of his mind provided. Tim did his best not to think about the fact he slept more comfortably in Elliot's arms than he had in months because it had left him feeling confused and even a little worried when he'd awoken that morning. 

The look Tommy had in his eyes as he stared back at Elliot was different now. There was something cold and calculating about those eyes and Tim felt glad that the look wasn't aimed in his direction. A thin smile spread across Tommy's lips. "Your boyfriend?" he asked after a pause, turning his attention back to Tim.

"A friend," Tim replied quickly, forcing himself not to overthink anything. As far as he was concerned it was still the truth. Nothing had come for his feelings for Elliot and he wasn't sure anything would now. Their chance at that had ended miserably and they felt still too fragile to try again. Raising the wine glass to his lips, Tim finished the remainder within a few seconds and set the glass back down on the bar. "Yeah, I'm good," he murmured in Elliot's direction before holding his hand out to Tommy, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr Merlyn."

"Please, just call me Tommy," the older man responded, the charm cranked back up to eleven as he clasped Tim's hand with a strong grip. If anything the quick change between cold and charming only made Tim feel even more unease. "I look forward to seeing you again, Tim.

_I'm not sure the feeling's mutual_ , Tim mused, departing with a final forced smile. The cold air that greeted him outside the club felt like a blessing.

"He seems _nice_ ," Elliot muttered gruffly. Tim glanced at him, eyebrows raising in surprise. It was obvious from the set of the other boy's jaw that he was irritated and it caught Tim off guard to realize that his confusing feelings for the other boy weren't entirely one-sided. No friend was this overprotective, or at least he didn't think they should be. He was a big boy, he could fight his own battles.

"Down, boy," Tim laughed, letting out the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. "You know I can take care of myself," he added in a quieter voice. Elliot stared at him for a moment, brow furrowed, before he smiled somewhat fondly.

"I know. I just don't like him," came the blunt reply. Tim couldn't help but laugh loudly. He quite possibly had even more questions than before he'd come to Star City but at least something in his life was starting to make more sense.

Tim had every intention of sneaking out of the hotel room that night to hunt for either the mystery disappearing man or the Green Arrow again but the moment he was wrapped in Elliot's strong arms he found himself drifting off into another peaceful sleep. He dreamed of a sprawling city seeing daylight for the first time in years, all of its citizens bathing in the sun's glory. Among them was Tim, smiling at the unseen figure next to him as if he didn't have a care in the world...

By the time the morning rolled around, Tim felt strangely refreshed. Once again he had beaten Elliot awake which made it all the more surprising when he discovered a note left on the bedside table. Tim plucked it from the surface, raising it into the light and felt his heart begin to race as he read the message:

_You're looking in the wrong place._

_\- Your friend, John._


	18. A Comprehensive List of Things I Know, by Tim Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bored on his flight home to New York, Tim makes a list.

**A Comprehensive List of Things I Know, by Tim Potter**

 

_Things I Know..._

 

1\. I have no memory of my life prior to two months ago.

2\. I woke up in an abandoned building in London.

3\. "John" was definitely in my room while I was sleeping last night.

4\. I am weirded out by said event.

5\. Dinah Laurel Lance is the Black Canary.

6\. The Black Canary offered to train me.

7\. I already know how to fight well enough to defend myself.

8\. The Green Arrow knew my name.

9\. The Green Arrow is a dick.

10\. Tommy Merlyn is also a dick.

11\. Merlyn is a stupid surname.

12\. Sara Lance is the best boss in the world.

13\. Sara doesn't want me to transfer to Star City.

14\. Dixon should be out of hospital in a few days.

15\. I need a haircut.

16\. This plane journey is going to last forever.

17\. Elliot is sleeping on my shoulder.

18\. Elliot is HEAVY

19\. Not much else, actually.

_Things I Think I Know..._

1\. Tim is my real first name. Why else would "John" suggest it?

2\. "John" is the scruffy British dude with the ugly trenchcoat.

3\. "John" is a wizard. A mage. A gnome. Something magical.

4\. I'm pretty sure I can call him John and not "John". If "John" isn't John then who the hell is John?

5\. That sentence didn't actually make sense.

6\. Elliot has feelings for me.

7\. I still have feelings for Elliot.

8\. I didn't used to live in London, New York or Star City ("You're looking in the wrong place.")

9\. The Green Arrow knows more about me than he let on.

10\. The club attack was more than just a stick-up.

11\. I may have been some sort of superhero/vigilante.

12\. I may also be going crazy and need to be thrown in Arkham.

13\. Tommy Merlyn knows who the Green Arrow is. Why else would he be shady as hell when he brought it up?

14\. Elliot wants to fight Tommy.

15\. The reason I have no memories has something to do with superheroes.

16\. Green Arrow and Black Canary aren't on good terms.

17\. John wants me to get my memories back.

18\. Somebody DOESN'T want me to get my memories back.

_Things That Will Bother Me Until I Actually Do Know..._

1\. My real surname.

2\. My birthday.

3\. On that note, MY AGE. I'm pretty sure I graduated high school. At least, I hope I have?

4\. Why did John help me and Elliot start our post-amnesia lives?

5\. What makes us more special than other people with missing memories?

6\. Where are our families?

7\. What's Elliot's real name?

8\. Who is the Green Arrow?

9\. What caused us to lose our memories?

10\. Did John take them?

11\. Why did I wake up in London of all places? Seriously, what was I doing there?

12\. If I had some kind of traumatic accident and now have brain damage then why the hell didn't I wake up in a hospital?

13\. Literally everything. Seriously, if I don't find out what's going on soon I AM GOING TO GO INSANE.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim has a strange dream.

"I just don't get _why_  he would leave that message," Elliot mused. They had been back in New York for all of a few hours and Tim was already itching to be on the move again. John's message had left him anxious, as if he was wasting time just going back home. It wasn't as if he had any other leads though, he couldn't keep chasing a ghost in the hopes that it might get him somewhere. He needed to pause and think about things rationally so he could make a real plan of action. He'd find out who he was sooner rather than later, Tim was sure of it, but in order to do so he needed to calm the chaos of his mind and consider what paths were actually viable in his current position.

The flight home from Star City had been a little easier considering Elliot had passed out almost the moment they had been seated and didn't wake up until they were safely back in their home city. Tim, on the other hand, had done his best to relax his mind by compiling a list of everything he knew about the mystery that was his life and what he still needed to uncover. Unfortunately there were a lot more questions than answers and it didn't exactly make him feel much better. 

"Because we're looking in the wrong place, clearly," Tim replied bitterly before downing the rest of his cup of coffee. He'd been resisting sleep for almost twenty-four hours, scared that he might miss John's next appearance by closing his eyes. He knew now that the man was still watching him, it hadn't been a one time thing to set him up with Elliot. There was something bigger going on here and only John seemed to have any of the answers. As frustrated as he was about it, Tim needed to chase the other man if he was going to get anywhere with his investigation.

Elliot only raised his eyebrows, a faint sympathetic smile crossing his lips. "You don't need to snap at me, buddy," he said softly, not unkindly. "Maybe you should sleep on it."

"I can't do that," Tim replied without missing a beat. He knew that there was more to it than just keeping an eye out for John - besides, it wasn't as if he had the energy to run around New York in the hope of spotting his mysterious British friend. His body felt like it was about to shut down at any moment but he was still fighting against it as best as he could. "I just... I won't sleep."

A strong hand clapped down on his shoulder and Tim couldn't help but relax against it. "You're exhausted, Tim. You need some sleep," Elliot's soothing voice whispered into his ear. Tim's eyes fluttered and he felt the growing urge to give in. His body was craving relaxation, craving sleep, craving just a little bit of peace...

The last thing Tim remembered was being scooped up from his seat on the couch by a pair of powerful arms and the fond look in Elliot's eyes before everything went dark.

 

* * *

 

  
_Tim was falling._

_Air rushed around him as he plummeted towards the Metropolis streets, towards certain death. His grappling hook was gone, the rest of his team were occupied fighting on the rooftops and he was about to be nothing more than a bloody stain on the sidewalk. Such an unfitting end to an otherwise relatively impressive career. Bruce would be so disappointed in him. At least he wouldn't live long enough to see the shame in the older man's eyes._

_The seconds felt like a lifetime, the fall becoming a sadistic torture that kept him guessing when it might end. He was almost wishing for it, just to end the horrible sensation of the free-fall he was trapped in. And then, just as Tim accepted that there was no way out, something shot from the rooftop straight down towards him. A figure clothed in blue and red, moving faster than any human could with a level of control that suggested they were more flying rather than falling. The figure's face came into view as they shot down towards him and Tim's heart began to race. Dark hair, blue eyes - he'd know that face anywhere._

_Conner._

_"_ I've got you, _" Conner assured him as his arms wrapped around him, slowing his descent. "_ You're fine, Tim, I've got you. _" The words echoed around Tim's head, louder than any of the other noises of the city. He moved a hand to Conner's chest, fingers tracing the 'S' crest on his uniform. This all felt so familiar, Conner swooping in at the last moment to save him. As if this was the way they'd always been._

_"Conner," he breathed, his heartbeat increasing as they pulled out of their descent and began to rise towards the bright sky. Too bright, almost._

_The other boy looked at him strangely then, concern etched into his features. "_ Tim, wake up. It's okay, you're home. _" The worry on Conner's face and in his voice was so familiar that Tim was temporarily distracted and didn't notice them rising higher and higher above the building. He instinctively reached out to hold onto Conner's shoulders but just as they reached their peak above the building, the other boy let go and Tim began to fall --_

"CONNER!"

Tim sprung up from the bed, frantic and delirious. Before he could even try to thrash around and escape the sheets that felt like a prison caging him in, strong hands grabbed him by the shoulder and held him in place. Tim stared at Conner, the sting of betrayal causing tears to spring to his eyes.

It took several moments to realize that he was looking at Elliot, not Conner. Elliot, the very normal human boy he'd been living with for months. Elliot who definitely couldn't fly and wasn't... wasn't...

Who even was Conner? Why had he been dreaming about him?

"It was just a dream, okay. It's over, you're fine," Elliot assured him, his voice soft and soothing. His fingers traced comforting patterns around Tim's shoulder and slowly his heartbeat returned to normal. He was sweaty and disgusting but he wasn't falling anymore and that felt like a positive. It had felt so real that his heartbeat was still racing and he felt terrified that the moment he was let go he'd return to falling to sudden death.

"But... Conner?" he croaked, staring deep into Elliot's eyes. They had the same face. Tim had been dreaming of Elliot, an Elliot who could fly, and yet he'd instantly recognized him as Conner. "He was..."

Elliot frowned. "Tim, who's Conner? We don't know any Conners," he pointed out. He was looking at Tim with his usual level of concern and usually Tim would have been distracted by just how close their bodies were, how it would be so easy to surge forward and press their lips together. He wasn't thinking about that right now though. He couldn't. He could only think about Conner.

"You... you're Conner," he realized, a metaphorical penny dropping in the back of his brain. What if it hadn't been a dream at all? "I know this sounds crazy but what if that was a  _memory_? I mean, it was you. I know it was!" The words sounded frantic and insane to even his ears. How could anybody possibly believe him? And yet here he was, feeling like he'd just pulled the curtain back on a revelation he'd hunted for months.

Tim's heart ached as Elliot lifted his hands off of his shoulders and pulled away, his lips curved into a frown. "Tim, listen to yourself," he sighed, his normally calm voice taking on a harder edge. "You're tired, it was a long trip back from Star City... you probably just need some more rest." There it was again, that never-ending concern. At times it made Tim feel warm and fuzzy inside, but that wasn't exactly the case right now. As crazy as it sounded, he felt actually sure of something for once. "You just had a nightmare, it's no big deal. We all get them."

"What do  _you_  have nightmares about?" Tim asked before he could even stop himself. He finally had a new lead to investigate and he couldn't stop himself from being pushy. That was definitely something left over from the person he used to be. The pieces were slowly starting to come together and they were creating the image of a very strange young man. A fighter and an investigator? Seriously, how many guys in their early twenties had that specific a skill set?

A strange expression ghosted over Elliot's face for a moment before he shrugged and stood up from the bed. "I never remember," he replied after a moment of hesitation. There was no time for Tim to push the subject further before his friend was retreating out of the room altogether, leaving Tim to his building confusion. There was something going on with Elliot and he knew it.  _What are you hiding?_  It stung to think that Elliot could possibly be hiding more from him considering how badly things had become last time the other boy had kept secrets but Tim trusted in his gut instinct. No matter what, he was going to get to the bottom of it.

Priority number one: he was going to find out exactly who Conner was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay between chapters! I'm currently balancing this and another multi-chapter fic for another fandom plus added stress at work so new chapters won't be as quick as they were previously but I'll try to update at least twice a month from now on!
> 
> Also shoutout to [cassianandaw on Tumblr for making this awesome aesthetic for the fic!](http://cassianandaw.tumblr.com/post/156449475751)


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim tries to work out what Elliot's hiding from him.

Tim didn't much like thinking of Elliot as a suspect. It wasn't as if he thought the other boy was responsible but there had to be a reason he wasn't just as eager to uncover the truth as he was. Why didn't he want to know who he'd used to be? It was eating away at Tim's brain, the fact there was a whole life he didn't know about, and he simply couldn't understand why Elliot wasn't just as consumed by the hunt for the truth.

_Is he lying?_  It was a horrible thought to consider but Tim couldn't help himself. His brain just had a need to ask every question he possibly could, no matter how uncomfortable it was. He didn't want to think Elliot was lying considering the frostiness that had followed the first time he'd announced the so-called truth and having a similar case of amnesia but it was impossible to rule anything out. Elliot's willful ignorance could easily be a front for not having a past to uncover after all. Thinking about that made Tim's gut feel uneasy though because he felt like he knew the other by now and while he was many things (not all of them positive), he wasn't a sociopathic liar.

Truth be told, Tim wasn't actually sure where to start. He had too many theories and too few actually made any sense. He wanted to get to the bottom of this so he could not only understand himself better but could also understand Elliot too. There had to be a reason that he was so dismissive of the search to find out what had happened to them, there just had to be a reason. He wouldn't accept anything else.

As for Conner... well that was an even bigger mystery. A quick search for news stories about a Conner that could fly came up with nothing and there was a strange voice in the back of Tim's head warning him about danger whenever he thought about the mystery dream boy for too long. Why had he looked exactly like Elliot? It didn't make any sense unless Elliot _was_  Conner but if that was the case then why couldn't he fly now? Tim refused to accept that it was just a dream, he absolutely refused.

With anxiety and over-activity eating away at his mind, Tim was in desperate need of a distraction. His brain jumped back to a thought from a few weeks earlier and he ran through his long black air. _Too shaggy_ , he scolded himself. Unlike his other issues though, this was something he could fix. He didn't overly care about his appearance because he was never really thinking about it when he looked in the mirror. He was staring at the person, not the body, and wondering who that person really was.

Tim supposed he should feel something as he watched the barber buzz away his long hair, leaving it close at the sides and only slightly longer on the top. _Much harder for someone to grab_ , his brain provided, flashing back to the fight at The Canary a few weeks before. While he had no plans to get in a fight again, he felt anxious leaving himself exposed like that. Maybe he couldn't fix his other issues but this was something he was able to do something about and it made him feel a little calmer.

By the time the cut was finished Tim felt like he was looking at an old friend in the mirror. He let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding and properly stared at himself for the first time in a while. He supposed that when he got all cleaned up and didn't let his hair grow out too long he was actually pretty handsome. He was hardly about to go singing his own praises from the rooftop but it was nice to feel confident about something for once.

As he began his long walk back to the apartment, Tim forced himself to go over every interaction he'd ever had with Elliot in the hope that one of them might provide some clue for what was going on with the other boy. He pored over every memory in extreme detail, focusing on the most minor of details in the hope of uncovering something. He'd settle for absolutely anything if only to prevent himself from sinking back into despair. He hated not having any clue what he was doing at all.

There was one thing that stuck in Tim's mind above all else: his first meeting with Elliot. He could so clearly remember his first impression of the other, how _super_  he looked. Could that have influenced his dream at all? Conner had been flying around and saving him like... like a younger Superman. That didn't make sense though. There wasn't any younger Superman, there was only the Man of Steel himself and Supergirl. Perhaps it had just been a dream after all.

Now that he thought about it though, Elliot looked a little _too_  similar to the famous superhero. His face was a little rounder and his skin a little more tan but there were too many undeniable similarities. That felt too significant to ignore.

_What if there was a younger Superman?_  he wondered, slowing his pace as his brain began to kick into gear. _A brother or a son? He's an alien after all, alien children might age faster._  There was so much Tim didn't know about Kryptonians that it was a valid possibility. It was worth looking into at least.

Determined to follow his train of thought through, Tim changed path to head to the nearest records library. He had a hunch that he wanted to investigate further because if he was onto something then it raised an even stranger question: if Elliot was in some way connected to Superman, why wasn't the hero looking for him? It felt suspicious and left a bad feeling in Tim's gut.

Once again he found himself wondering whether there was someone out there looking for him too.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim tries to help Elliot see the truth.

The records library didn't receive nearly as many visitors as some of the places Tim frequented around the city but it turned out to be one of the more illuminating places he'd visited. He had been hopeful that it would provide him with some clues into either his own past or Elliot's, he just hadn't expected to feel so confident about what he found. For the first time in forever he felt like he actually had an answer and he wasn't going to back down now that he'd finally started clearing away the fog that surrounded his life and suffocated him whenever he tried to think about his past. 

With a number of old newspapers and print-outs of articles in his bag as he marched back to the apartment he had learned to call home, Tim's heart began to race. He finally had some level of proof and there was no way Elliot could reject this, was there? It didn't matter what agenda he had, there was no way he could deny that there was something suspicious going on and Tim wasn't going to stop until he got to the bottom of it.

By the time he reached the apartment he was somewhat disappointed to discover that the other boy wasn't there. He supposed it wasn't all that uncommon for Elliot to be out, he had his own life after all and there could be any number of places he might be: the bakery, the Canary, out with friends... Even though they'd spent months together there was still so much about Elliot that Tim didn't know and that wasn't even getting to his missing past. 

With everything laid out on the coffee table before him, Tim scanned over everything again to make sure he was positive. How could he be anything but sure when this level of evidence was readily available for him? 

Waiting for Elliot to get home was more anxiety-inducing than Tim would like to admit. He ran his hand through his newly-cut hair, scratching at the back of his skull and doing his best to hope that the conversation that followed wouldn't be as antagonistic as he was fearing. There had been a marked shift in their relationship since Elliot had confessed that he didn't know anything about his own past either but it wasn't the kind of shift that brought them closer together. It made Tim doubt exactly what it was he really knew about the other and that in turn brought about more paranoia. Tim wasn't sure why he was so quick to jump to the worst conclusion at any moment but it was a terrible habit of his that seemingly wouldn't be ending until he got the answers he was looking for.

By the time the other boy returned to the apartment he had already knocked back three cups of coffee and felt more wired that he had in a long time. His hands were shaking and he had no idea if that was the effect of the coffee or his anxiety. All he knew was that he felt like he was about to burst and he needed to get what he knew out there sooner rather than later. His brain had been looping that strange dream over and over and the more he analysed it the more he was sure it was a memory more than a dream. Everything was beginning to line up and make sense, he just had to make the other boy see it.

"What's up with you?" Elliot asked, voice laced with concern as he threw his bag down on the ground and pulled off his jacket. Previously Tim might have been distracted by the subtle movements of the other boy's powerful arms or how broad his shoulders were but he had more important things to think about. 

"I have answers," he replied breathlessly, his legs aching from the amount of relentless pacing he'd been doing for the past hour. "Not answers for me but answers for you which I guess is good too because it _might_  help me in the long run." Tim's brain was running at a thousand miles a minute and it was hard to slow down enough to stop himself from rambling.

Elliot's brow furrowed as he frowned. "What answers?" he asked curiously as he slowly moved past and into the kitchen. Tim followed without a moment's hesitation, wringing his hands as he chose the best way to actually word his breakthrough without sounding... well, insane. It was pretty hard to believe after all but he just knew he was spot on the money.

"I think-- I _know_  who you were. _Are_ ," he hissed, unable to remain still for even a moment. Elliot fell short of pouring himself a glass of water and stayed frozen to the spot for a moment. "I have answers, El. I worked it out!"

Elliot craned his neck to face him, almost robotic in motion, and his face was strangely blank. The lack of emotion sent a shiver down Tim's spine and once again he found himself wishing that he could read the other boy's mind. He'd expected the other to be just as excited as he was at the prospect of getting answers and yet he seemed totally unmoved. Did he doubt that Tim had found anything of note or did he just not want to know? Maybe he was just too shocked to actually respond. There had to be a reason for it after all because nothing happened without a reason, it just wasn't possible. Everything had an answer, it was just about discovering what that that answer was.

"You can't have," the other responded after a moment, his voice deeper than Tim had ever heard it. There was a look in his eyes, almost menacing in nature and once again Tim was reminded just how little he really knew about the other even without considering who Elliot had been before he'd lost his memories. He'd set up a whole life for himself before Tim had come along to shake things up and he had no doubt that the other had made a few secrets to keep during that time.

"I have," Tim insisted, standing his ground. "Just look." Not feeling confident enough to grab the other and pull him along, Tim instead turned on his heel and marched into the lounge. Thankfully the other male followed him and he didn't have to fight to keep his attention. Grabbing the newspaper clippings from the coffee table, he thrust them towards Elliot. That was all the proof he should really need.

Elliot somewhat reluctantly took the clippings from him and stared at them for a few moments, the same blank expression still on his face. "What am I looking at?" he asked gruffly, glancing up and leveling a ridiculing glance at Tim. The look sent a shiver down the smaller boy's spine because there was something innately mean in that look, almost mocking in nature. He'd never expected Elliot to look at him like that. "Are you saying that I'm Superman?" The laugh that followed twisted at Tim's gut and his gaze lowered to the ground, worried that he'd severely misjudged the other boy.

"That's not what I'm saying," he mumbled, clamoring to find some confidence within himself. "Look at the empty space behind Supergirl. There used to be a third person there." He pointed it out and Elliot's gaze followed, his lips forming a thin line in due course. "The articles too. It looks like some words have been erased. I don't know how but that... there's something weird going on. They've been tampered with," he insisted, finally looking up to meet the other's eyes in a stand-off. "I'm not saying you're Superman, no. I'm saying you're _Superboy_."

A brief silenced followed before Elliot chuckled darkly and shook his head. "There's never been a Superboy," he reminded Tim. "This is just... You're clutching at straws, Tim. There's nothing here."

_No_. That wasn't true at all, there was plenty there, Elliot just didn't want to see it. "There is, El. This is it, it's the truth! I wasn't wrong when I said you looked like Superman the first time we met because you do. You're his son or his brother or nephew or _something._ "

"Why can't I just be me, huh?" the other boy challenged, his voice raising to dangerous levels. "I don't need to remind you that I can't fly and I'm not super-strong. This is just a crazy theory that you're clinging to because you're losing your goddamn mind!" By the end he was yelling and Tim flinched, pulling back sharply as if he'd been physically struck by the other. Elliot's expression didn't soften either, nor did he show any trace of regret for raising his voice.

"I-- I'm not--" Tim started before breaking off. He wasn't going crazy, he knew he wasn't. Elliot just didn't want to accept the truth. "Your powers were locked away with your memory or something, there's a reason, I'm sure of it," he protested weakly even though he knew it would make no difference at all. Elliot had already made up his mind  and there was very little Tim could do to change it now unless he found a way to prove it was true.

"Just go to bed, Tim. This is... You're wrong, okay? I'm not who you think I am," Elliot huffed, turning and stomping back towards the kitchen. Tim couldn't even bring himself to watch the other leave. At least Elliot had been right about one thing:

He wasn't the kind of man Tim thought he was after all.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim struggles to see eye-to-eye with Elliot.

_The sprawling city managed to look beautiful underneath the warm glow of the morning sun in a way that Tim's never had. Metropolis had a certain beauty to it, like those first few days where spring bloomed into summer, and it was infectious. From this height it looked like nothing bad ever happened there and even though Tim knew that wasn't quite the case, he allowed himself to believe it just for a few moments. It felt good to know that outside of his own city's darkness there was somewhere so beautiful and safe._

_How could the city's denizens not feel safe with such awe-inspiring heroes watching over them? The Man of Steel himself called the place home and was so often seen shooting across the skyline to save the day but he wasn't the one Tim kept an eye out for. Clark was a good man and had always been kind to Tim but it was his younger clone that captured Tim's attention more than Clark ever could. That made his heart beat a little faster in a way that Bruce would never approve of. Tim wasn't quite sure if it was love, it was still too early to make such grand statements like that, but it was certainly something._

_So distracted by his own thoughts, Tim almost missed the sight of something traveling through the Metropolis skyline at great speed until it slowed just a few feet in front of him. There he was, as beautiful as ever: "Conner." The name slipped out of Tim's lips before he could stop himself. His friend was wearing the new black-and-red suit Clark had gifted him with the familiar Kryptonian symbol on the front that Tim preferred to believe meant Superboy. He knew very little about Conner's home planet but he supposed so did he considering he could never go there. All he knew about his heritage was what Clark told him. At least he had a good mentor - one who didn't freeze him out like Tim's so often did._

_"What are you doing here?" the other boy asked, delight radiating from every feature on his face. Tim hadn't believed it was possible for Conner to be even more beautiful than he already had been but there was the proof. His heart was doing backflips while butterflies fluttered around in his stomach, reminding him just how vulnerable and open he felt in the other boy's presence. He wasn't even sure Conner knew how he felt and despite all the bravery he displayed when he was working on a case, he possessed none when it came to opening up about his feelings for the other._

_"Business trip," Tim replied thoughtlessly. "Bruce wanted me to check on his lackeys in Metropolis. I volunteered to go instead." He'd offered to go for one simple reason and that reason was currently floating in the air before him, grinning as if Tim made him the happiest man alive. He could certainly dream as much because Conner made him happier than anybody else possibly could._

_"Does he ever slow down?" Conner asked, his grin slipping into a sympathetic smile before he added, "Do you?"_

_Tim shrugged his shoulders. Slowing down wasn't ever really an option for a guy living the kind of life he did. "Slowing down is for losers," he countered, grinning back at the other. Maybe he'd like the kind of life where he was just an ordinary college kid but that wasn't really an option for him. It hadn't been for a long time._

_Conner smiled again, the fondness creeping in and making Tim consider that maybe, just maybe, the other boy's feelings ran deeper than the surface too. When he looked at Conner he didn't just see a handsome face and well-muscled body, he saw the other boy's kindness and his earnest attempts to be as much of a hero as he could possibly be. Who wouldn't develop feelings for him? "You are a loser," the other boy reminded him in a teasing tone, bringing forth a laugh from the shorter boy._

_"Guess so," Tim agreed, shrugging his slender shoulders. Once upon a time he might have felt insecure about his size when he'd first met Conner considering the other boy was a few inches taller and infinitely more muscular but years of training had developed Tim's body into something lean and more than capable of defending itself. "It's why you like me though, right?"_

_There was no vocal response but one wasn't necessary when Conner was leaning in to press their lips together in the most gentle of kisses..._

* * *

 

Not for the first time, Tim woke up in a frenzy. He panted desperately, too uncomfortably aware of how sticky his sheets had become with his sweat through the night. The sun was only just rising and yet Tim was wide awake with a single though in his mind. If he was going to get to the bottom of this crazy situation and prove to Elliot that he really was Superboy - there was no question left in Tim's mind that Elliot and Conner were one in the same - then he needed to go to the one person who would likely have some answers. _I've got to go to Metropolis_.

Tim's initial thought was that he'd need to plan the trip and invite Elliot along but he found himself quickly thinking twice about that. Considering how uncharacteristically angry Elliot had gotten when he'd suggested that he was actually a metahuman, the thought of dragging him along to prove it felt like it was asking for trouble. The other boy would probably think he'd gone off the deep end and their relationship would be worse off for it. Considering everything in Tim's life was thanks to his relationship with Elliot, he really didn't want to put it all at risk. There was too much at stake.

_I have to go alone_ , he realized, grim determination setting in as he threw himself out of bed and began grabbing his clothes. He wasn't going to be able to slip away at any random point throughout the day so he'd have to go now. That was his only option. Throwing spare clothes into a rucksack, Tim did his best to stay as silent as possible before climbing out of the window onto the fire escape. Hopefully his trip to Metropolis would only last a day or two and Elliot would just presume he was off licking his wounds from their last fight instead of worrying about his disappearance.

Knowing better than to leave without anybody knowing, Tim instead stopped by the Canary. The night shift was just wrapping up and all of the usual customers had long gone home but a few of the staff remained for the clean-up, including the person he was looking for.

"What are you doing here?" Sara asked, a confused smile flashing across her face. "I didn't think you were in until Friday."

"I'm not, I-- I'm going to Metropolis," he blurted out, suddenly feeling totally unprepared for the conversation he was about to have. Sara frowned, waiting for him to explain why he felt the need for such a random announcement and Tim did his best to throw together a story that wouldn't make him sound totally crazy. "I think I have answers about my past and there's somebody there that can help me."

Even though Tim had only briefly discussed his confusing past with Sara, his boss perked up noticeably and her face relaxed back into her usual easy smile. "That's great! I hope you get the answers you need," she enthused, clapping him on the shoulder with a surprisingly strong hand. "Why do I feel like there's something else to the story though?"

Tim had almost forgotten that the Lance sisters seemed to have that uncanny sense when it came to uncovering the truth. Sara wasn't quite as intimidating as Dinah had been but perhaps that was for good reason considering Dinah moonlighted as a metahuman vigilante. "I haven't told Elliot I'm going," he confessed, "It's just-- It's not a good time for us right now and I think he'd try to stop me from going."

As expected, the news didn't seem to sit too well with Sara. "Is everything okay between you two? He's not... I mean he wouldn't but Eliot's not hurt you, right?" she asked in a quiet, concern-laced voice that somehow still managed to be menacing. 

"No, it's nothing like that, just... I don't want him to know that I'm gone so if he comes here and asks, just--"

"Cover you. I've got it," Sara assured him. "Do what you've got to do, baby bird. I've got your back." She pulled him into a tight embrace for good measure and Tim felt himself relax for the first time in almost twenty-four hours. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to not be so tensed up all the time.

After his stop at the Canary, Tim made haste towards Grand Central Terminal. Trains to Metropolis were relatively regular and the journey wouldn't be nearly as long as it had been to Star City which meant that slipping there and back unnoticed should be a lot easier. He still felt anxious like he was breaking some unmentioned rule and fracturing his relationship with Elliot further but when he was so close to uncovering the truth he couldn't stop himself. This was the kind of breakthrough he'd been hunting for all along and he couldn't just let it go no matter what Elliot told him to do. _I'm not crazy. I'm not._  He couldn't afford to think like that.

By the time he reached the terminal Tim's heart was racing. His fingers fidgeted with his wallet as he lined up in the queue to order his tickets and his patience threatened to break as people took longer than necessary. He was in a race to leave the city and he felt like he was already falling behind which was never a good sign. Tim barely let himself sigh in relief once he had the tickets in his hand and started to make his way towards the train platform because it didn't seem like it was over quite yet.

In retrospect, he couldn't believe quite how right that statement was. The chaos of his early morning certainly wasn't over because he was stopped short of reaching the platform by two beams of red light bursting out over the top of his head and destroying the gateway into the terminal upon impact. As the rubble smashed down before him and terrified screams began to overtake the busy hum of tourists that had once filled the terminal, Tim slowly turned to face his new opponent. He had no doubt in his mind that whoever had caused the destruction had done it to stop him from getting to Metropolis. _How did they know? I was so careful.._.

A part of Tim already knew what to expect as he turned and looked up at the figure floating several feet in the air but it still knocked the wind out of him to see it with his own eyes. Beneath the cruel expression and balled-up fists, Tim felt like he hardly knew the other at all, but no matter how hard he tried there was simply no mistaking the fact that the person glaring down at him with glowing red eyes was Elliot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHIT'S HAPPENING, GUYS. YOUR ANSWERS ARE COMING.


End file.
